


In spite of the world

by Stone_Heart



Series: In spite of the world [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Declarations Of Love, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Genocide, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Past Character Death, Post-War, Protective Yuri Plisetsky, Serious Injuries, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Trauma, Violence, updates twice a week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 100,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9115363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stone_Heart/pseuds/Stone_Heart
Summary: After years of war and suffering, the reign of fairies in the world has finally ended. Every last one has been killed, and maybe the world is better for it.At least, that's what he used to think.How is he supposed to feel, when the creature he spent years hating pulls him from the brink of death? How is he suppose to react when that turns into something more?





	1. Between the woods and frozen lake, the darkest evening of the year

**Author's Note:**

> Hi readers! I hope you will like this fic just as much as I loved writing it!

He saw the blade being shoved between his ribs before he felt it. A gap in his armor, only visible from below, was being shoved up. A blinding flash of pain twisted up inside him, making him see red. Hot sticky blood spurted out over the man’s fingers as he lunged, pushing it deeper into his flesh.

“Fuck, stab him again!” Cried the man, snarling. Three of them, peasants in rags.

“I’m fucking trying!” Screamed the man. He was obviously terrified, his eyes wide and panicky, looking around. His hand was trembling over the knife, shaking it. It only cut him deeper. Sightless anger shot through Otabek. He kicked the scared man away from him, his body thumping as it hit the ground.

“Shit!” The other one said, pulling his own blade out. “Let’s go!”

Otabek grit his teeth, pulling his own sword out. The closest man screamed. The first one began to run at him, yelling as he ran toward him. “He’s weak, come on!” A dead on attack, thought Otabek. It was pointless. _Idiot_ , thought Otabek grimly.

He screamed as Otabek rammed his sword straight through his middle, slicing him clean open like he was made of butter. The man’s yell died on his breath, still breathing, but it was shallow. “Pull it out.” He spluttered, groaning. His hands gripped onto the sword embedded in his chest, pulling. Blood poured from his palms. “Just pull it out.”

So Otabek did, blood and gore dripping from his handle as he drove it up through the chest, burgundy exiting through the man’s mouth. Otabek had sliced the man almost in two, his insides falling out of him like it was nothing. He could see it in the man’s dull eyes. The flare and flicker as his soul left the body. The banality of the now empty lifeless eyes. The corpse slid off of his sword, landing on the ground with a heavy thud.

He looked up to where the other two were. They were quivering like mad, both half sobbing. They had just witnessed death, probably of their friend. Otabek wouldn’t attack. “Leave!” He said, pointing his bloodied sword at them. “Unless you would like to meet your gods, leave!” They spluttered, wobbling to their feet, running as fast as their skinny legs would carry them.

Otabek felt a funny sensation trickle through him. The blade in his ribs was still there, sticking out. Every shuffle of his chainmail made it dig even deeper. Without any distractions, the pain hit him once more in full force. Otabek needed to sit down, the grass soft and damp underneath him, cooling his burning skin. He cried out, pulling off his chainmail gently. Shit, he would need to patch this up here. There was no way he was riding on horseback like this. His left side burned like hell fire.

He swore, removing his shirt around the knife. It had stained everything red. The slide of material caught on the knife, making him scream. He muffled it with his fist, tears spilling over his cheeks.

And there it was. Where it met his skin, the entry point, everything. Blood poured like lava, sending him through shockwaves of pain enough to make him dizzy. It was shoved right near his lungs. _This was not good_ , he thought, his heart pounding hard enough for him to hear it in his ears. No, that wasn’t going to help. More blood would pour out. He would only die faster.

Was he about to die? Was this it?

“ **Fuck!** ” he swore. He needed to stand. His horse had supplies. He needed to plug up the wound. He stood up slowly, whimpering as more pain echoed through him. Slowly, he walked.

“Delilah. Shh, shh, it’s okay.” He said, his horse nudging him, nostrils flaring at the smell of blood. “Stay still, I need to get stuff.” That was it, nice and calm.

He sealed the area around the cut, the dark bandage fabric turning red. He didn’t want to use the cleaning alcohol, the pain would make him pass out.

But it wasn’t stopping the bleeding.

“Shit!” He cried out loud. “Come on Delilah.” Otabek climbed onto his horse, crying from the pain as he stretched up to climb on her back. “Come on, let’s get back to camp.” They would need to hurry. Blood drizzled out onto the saddle, sending Otabek into a panic. “Fuck, Delilah!” The horse seemed to get the message, finally getting into a gallop. Every land of hooves made stars flash across his vision.

He felt drowsy, the lack of blood making his head spin. _I’m about to die_. He thought, a sense of fear being squashed clean out of him by the lazy feeling in his fingers and toes. _The hero of Kazakhstan, killed by three peasants,_ he thought. _It sounded like the songs cheeky bards would sing in their taverns._ The irony wasn’t lost on him.

“Delilah.” He sighed, slumping to the ground as the world grew dark. His shoulder hit the ground painfully as he fell, head smacking into the ground with a crack. Warmth wrapped around him, a blanket of death as he shut his eyes for the last time.

 

*

 

Even in death, he seeming saw.

Flickers of light went by his head like shooting stars, too bright to look at directly. He was floating, the world around him gone, the vastness and emptiness of the dark space swallowing him. Otabek gasped, but there was no air around him. Only sky.

 _Was this the afterlife?_ Thought Otabek, frowning. It couldn’t be. He was a hero. He couldn’t be floating around in this chamber forever. The gods had promised him riches beyond his wildest dreams.

In a split second, the space began to spin. Faster and faster, rushing around him in a swirl. _I want to leave_ , he thought. Otabek closed his eyes, holding himself closer together. He felt his skin begin to crack and pull apart like dry mud. Screaming, he rubbed at his skin, holding it to stop all of him from falling apart.

“Don’t die yet, asshole!” Called a voice from above. “I’m going to need to do this, huh.” It sounded disappointed, almost sad.

All of a sudden, hot green liquid surrounded him, filling in the cracks. His skin grouped back together, but he was left with light green marks all over his body.

The world disappeared. And he was out cold.

 

*

 

The hardwood floor turned his shoulder painfully. He shivered, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he opened his eyes.

“I’m alive.” He said, feeling his fingers and his toes shift. A groan left him as he sat up, enough pain to have his eyes brimming with tears again. Otabek looked around him.

It seemed to be a cabin, with small shutter windows and a fireplace. One table stood to the side, with a single chair beside it. Bottles of various things littered it, all different colors and shapes. It was extremely messy. A dirty plate sat on the floor beside the fireplace. Otabek frowned. This person clearly had no problem with leaving the place untidy. There were stairs leading upstairs, where there was a small amount of light streaming through.

Someone had brought him here. Otabek reached up his shirt, pulling back the cloth gently. It was covered, yes. But it felt strange, like some sort of knot? He pulled up his shirt so that he was able to see. “Huh?” Over the where the wound had been, there was a growth of vines, small and green. It pulled on his skin tightly, keeping the wound closed.

Whoever had brought him here didn’t have any plans to kill him then. He was wary of the vine growth. It was magic, he could see, but was it safe? Humans couldn’t generally perform magic; it was a rare gift, and the training was tenuous and expensive. He prodded it with his finger, recoiling when it sent more surges of pain.

He should do something about the floor. Otabek sat up, leaning against the wall. He rubbed his shoulder, trying to bring back some life into it.

Shit, where was his armor?

“Is anyone here?” He called out. “I’m friendly.”

There was a shuffling from above him, loud banging noises as it came closer. Otabek braced himself. This person helped him. But…

A pale face peered over the stairs, looking at him. He blinked back. Those eyes… bright green and ferocious. Those eyes were what he looked for on a battlefield. Not the scared eyes of a peasant or the pudgy eyes of a spoiled king. No, those were the eyes of a soldier.

It’s lanky figure and pale limbs were hardly intimidating though.

“Hi.” He introduced himself. The figure walked further down the stairs, still silent. “I’m Otabek,” The pale person gave him a strange look before walking closer to him. Their long blond hair was braided up, hanging over one shoulder. They seemed almost hesitant, before leaning forward. A hand pointed against the hem of his shirt, gesturing to pull it up. “Oh, hold it up?” He said, pulling on the material. They nodded, taking a look at the wound. “Do you, uh, understand me?” He asked. The figure glared, wrinkling their nose.

Otabek shuffled slightly as his wound was pushed on.

“Stay still, human.” Growled the, what he assumed to be by the voice, boy. His face was fixed on a sneer as he looked at the vines. _Human?_ Thought Otabek, moaning at the pain.

“Human?” He coughed out.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Is your vision defective as well?” He said, frowning. “Just, fuck, let me fix you.” The skin on his wound felt like it was winding tighter. “That should do it.” He said, sounding very exasperated. When he saw the look of confusion on Otabek’s face, he shook his head.

“What.” Said the boy, standing up. He couldn’t deny that this… person was stunning. His green eyes and blond hair. Skin like starlight.

“Where am I?” Asked Otabek.

“In my cabin.” Said the boy, sitting down on his chair. “Your horse is outside. You better be damn thankful I brought it along with us. You’re heavy. I didn’t need to do this.”

Otabek smiled, bowing slightly. “I thank you, stranger.”

He huffed. Leaning down, he produced a strange piece of writing from his hand, and in a moment there was a fire in the hearth. Magic, he realised with wide eyes. No wand. This person had to be non-human.

“What…” started Otabek, not wanted to sound insensitive. Whatever this creature was, it wasn’t a human. But it clearly passed as one. It would be incredibly rude to ask. Other intelligent beings could be very sensitive at times. “What are you?” He asked hesitantly. “I do not wish to presume.”

He hissed, poking at the flames. The boy was angry, glaring as he looked at Otabek.

“Once you’re healthy, you leave.” He said. “I don’t know why I’m even helping you. This is so goddamn stupid.” He sounded downright hostile, spitting the words like they were dirty. He threw the stick into the fire, and walked away, his blond hair swept behind him. He had never truly seen hair that pale.

“Wait!” He called, leaning towards the man. “Did I offend you?” the man sneered. “If that’s true, then I am sorry. Just-”

Hands rapidly came up to his neck, thrusting his head up. The green eyes above him burned in fury. “If you want to live, you’ll keep your damn mouth shut!” He said, snarling. “I’m not here to have a chat and pretend this is all friendly. I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart, not because you deserve anything.” He let go, fingers clenching tighter for a moment, but not enough to restrict his air flow. “You can sleep on the rug like a dog for all I care.”

With that, he stomped away, leaving Otabek alone. He rubbed his neck, slightly bruised from the hold on it. He shuffled over to the rug, as it would at least offer protection from the hard floor. The man had saved him. It was highly unlikely he would kill him now. And the stab wound still had him barely moving. Every breath seemingly had him bowing over in pain.

Things would be better in the morning, he said, closing his eyes. He had questions, but he wasn’t going to get any answers right now. Otabek shut his eyes.

 

*

 

“Hey,” Said a voice above him. “Hey, are you…”

He opened his eyes blearily, looking around. Right above him sat the beautiful creature, his green eyes open and wide.

“Phew, for a second I thought you were dead.” He said, standing up.

“What, were you worried?” He asked.

“Fuck no. I don’t want to dig a grave for you. Your corpse would attract the wolves.”

Otabek bit back a grin.

“What’s that smell?” He asked. There was something very sweet smelling in the air, like honey, or pear with a hint of peppermint. The man gave him a disdainful look.

“Here, eat this.” He said, shoving something into him.

“Is this my food?” He said, pointing at the bread.

“What, you think I’m just going to waste it? The food was in your pack.”

They ate the food in silence, but Otabek was burning with questions.

“What’s your name?”

“What’s the point?”

“You know mine, it’s only fair.” The boy hummed for a moment, chewing on his bread.

“Yuri.” He said. “My name is Yuri.”

Otabek raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t from here then, are you?” It didn’t sound like anything regional. Yuri shrugged.

“I’m very far from where I was born.”

“Where were you born?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” He said, biting his lip. “Nothing does.”

Otabek didn’t know how to respond to that.

“So… you’re not human?” He asked, not wanting the same response than last time.

“I see they clearly picked only the best and the brightest when they chose you.” He spat. “Obviously. Are you completely blind?”

“I saw you perform magic.”

“Yes.” He sighed, licking the crumbs from the bread off his fingers. “I can do magic.”

“Are you an Elf?” Otabek knew an elf once. He had been an incredible archer.

“Are you kidding? Do my ears look pointy to you?”

“Zombie?”

“Fuck you,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes. “It would be easier to just show you. But… on one condition.” He said, grimly. “If you tell anyone, I will kill you. I can kill you at any time now anyway.” Pointing at the green plant bandage. “That thing saved your life. But if I choose, it can kill you on the spot.”

“Shit.” Said Otabek, looking down.

“Exactly.” Said Yuri. “I’m not going to fuck around. You try and hurt me, poison. You call your men and try to attack me, poison.” Otabek frowned. Why would anyone try to attack this man? But he nodded, agreeing.

“I won’t tell a soul.”

Yuri gave him a long look, before shrugging off his coat. Long delicate wings unfolded, sparkling in the sun. They were like the wings of an insect, but large and silver. Thin crystal green veins ran underneath the surface. They quivered slightly in the light.

“You’re, a fairy?” He said, almost gasping.

He nodded.

“I thought you all were wiped out.” He said, staring at the wings. They were breath-taking, shimmering all silver and green. “Extinct.”

“They clearly didn’t kill everyone then.” Said Yuri, glaring. Otabek wanted to reach out and touch them, but held himself back. It would probably be very rude.

Yuri pulled his coat back on, shifting them uncomfortably back. It looked painful, as he folded them into a shape they were not accustomed to.

“I’ve read a few books on fae.” He said. Yuri raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were supposed to be small.”

“We can shrink. But it’s impractical to be that small. It makes us a lot easier to kill.”

“And you’re supposed to live in groups.”

“Don’t you think I know what fairies are supposed to do?” He said, frowning. “It’s a little difficult to live in groups when everyone you know is dead.”

Oh. That send a chill straight through to his core. Right. The fairies had been slaughtered in droves about twenty years ago, back when the king was on a purge of all things containing magic. They had all been killed, or at least, that’s what the book had said. There was still a lot of bad sentiment towards fairies.

“Oh.” Shit, the way Yuri looked now was awful.

“Yeah. Fuck,” He said glaring at Otabek. “This is why I shouldn’t help humans. You’re all horrible.” Otabek didn’t feel angry.

Yuri sighed. “Sorry, shit, I shouldn’t have said that.” He grimaced, running a hand through his hair.

Otabek shook his head. “I get it.” He said. “It makes sense that you’re angry.” Otabek couldn’t begin to imagine what that must have been like.

“Ugh, I don’t need you to comfort me. Eat your damn food.”

“My food.”

“Consider it payment for me saving your life.” Said Yuri.

“Are there… any of you left.” He said, softly.

Yuri shook his head. “I’m the last one that I know of. I’m sure there’s some other poor asshole out there like me, but it’s not like it matters. There aren’t enough left. Your species are very efficient when it comes to killing people.”

He felt a streak of guilt shoot through him, remembering how he had sliced that man clean open as easily as he ate breakfast here. They sat in silence for a moment, contemplating.

“Does your wound still hurt?” Asked Yuri. “I can adjust it if it feels too tight.” Otabek shook his head. “It was crazy trying to fix your stab wound.” Said Yuri, chuckling. “It was in your lungs. I didn’t realize until I had already patched up the front. Blood was all in your lungs and coming out of your mouth and everything. I’m surprised you’re still alive. Most people wouldn’t survive that kind of thing.”

“How did you find me?” He asked. “I was in the middle of nowhere.”

“That man you killed? He stole from me. I was going to get him myself. But, you,” He said, gesturing a slicing motion. Otabek winced.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Get off your damn high horse, I’ve seen far worse. And that bitch deserved it.” He said grimly. “The bath is outside. Go, you smell like shit.”

“Eloquent.” Said Otabek, stepping into the open-air.


	2. A tree beside the wall stands bare, but a leaf that lingered brown. Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought, comes softly rattling down.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek and Yuri talk about energy, and Otabek pretends he understands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri is around 22 in this fic, so if you're wondering why he's a little more mature, that would be it. The genocide of his people might also have affected him a little on the maturity scale. :\

It was like nothing he had ever seen before. The cabin had been rather ordinary, other than the various colored bottles on the wooden table. Outside, it was as if he had stepped into another world.

The ground was covered in tiny flowers, smaller than a frog’s eye, dotting the ground. Thousands upon thousands shielded the grass, beautiful as they danced in the wind. Vines twined around the trees surrounding the cabin, curling up, sprouting large orange and green leaves. The trees were huge, but it didn’t feel the same as that night with his horse and the three attackers. Willow trees, large swooping branches like the arms of a mother, lightly shading the area.

Delilah sat underneath one of the trees, sleeping. Her head rested in the grass, a gentle breeze dusting over her mane. He smiled. She was safe.

“Oh.” He said, in awe of its beauty. He felt himself inhale as he heard the sounds of rushing waves and saw the clean blue touching the sky. They were close to the coast.

Otabek had never seen the sea before. The idea that there was water the spanned over for eons seemed legendary. He had never really been able to believe it himself. Tales of blue water, deep and salty appeared foolish in his youth. Something only used to frighten young children into not wondering far from home, as they might wash away and fall off the edge.

It was darker than the sky, glittering and vibrant. Red sand grew murky as it sunk further into the water. White waves washed over the sand, over and over, boundless energy as it slapped the sand, as if to say ‘ _Come on! I’m here, let’s go!’_

He was in awe. Otabek must have been sitting there for a while, as a voice called out to him from the cabin. The fairy stood at the doorway, and he waved.

“Lost?” Yuri walked out of the cabin, and sat down beside him.

Otabek shook his head. “I’ve never seen the ocean before.” He said, staring out over the horizon. “How can something like this even exist?”

“It’s like you can’t stop looking, right?” He said, a ghost of a smile appearing over his lips.

“It’s so... huge!” Said Otabek. 

“You’ll get used to it after a few weeks,” said Yuri, smirking.

Otabek looked at him, really earnestly. “I could never get used to looking at this.” He said, determined. “I will never get used to this. It’s far too beautiful to ever normalize.” Yuri got a funny look in his eye, turning away.

“Huh,” he said, eyes shut as he stretched out in the sun. “Humans.”

Otabek turned to look at the fairy. The sun made him even more elegant, blond hair in all directions as he lay upon the grass. Despite his previous sour expression, the way he looked now made him look almost peaceful.

“I thought you were going to bathe, so I brought you some spare clothes that might fit. It’s probably too small, so tell me if you need me to make it bigger.” He lifted a hand, making sarcastic swirling patterns in the air. “Magic and shit.”

“Where is it?”

“Behind the house. Be careful, the water is really hot.”

“More magic?”

Yuri shook his head. “Just geothermal activity.”

“Oh.” He said, not entirely understanding, but nodding anyway.

The bath was deep, and in the ground. Built with stone, made to last. Otabek shut the wooden door behind him, not like that made much difference. There were large gaps in the small wooden hut, large enough for anyone to see through if they were close by. A large spout sat over the whole tub, with a pump to the side. Otabek pulled off his clothes, placing them on the one stool that stood to the side.

He put his finger in the water to test the temperature, then pulling it out and shoving it in his mouth. It was boiling? How was that even possible?

Otabek had heard of geysers before. Once before, he had visited a town with many of these things. In some locations, the hot water from deep bellow would bubble up to the surface, creating a terrible smell, but one that you soon got used to. The town made money from tourists who thought the ‘hot springs’ would cure their many ailments. There were large mud pools that were so hot he swore his leg would be charred off if he climbed into one of those. Otabek stayed at one of the inns, bathing in clear water that was warm, and made him feel very sleepy.

When was that? He wondered. They had been recruiting people from nearby villages, archers mostly. Holding tournaments, and offering the winners a place. That’s where they had gotten that silver haired elf, wasn’t it?

When Otabek deemed it was safe to climb in, he slowly lowered himself into the bath, groaning. The wound burned deep within him, twisting his stomach violently.

“Fuck,” he swore, looking down at the knot made of vines. It pulled tighter against his skin now, like it was reacting to the water. _It was blocking out the water_ , he though in amazement. He should have been alarmed, or at least a little apprehensive about it, especially after the threat the fairy had given him. But Otabek didn’t feel that way, strangely. The bandage was protecting him, working his flesh together. It didn’t frighten him.

Other things frightened him. Real things that could actually hurt him. Physical things, like the rush of battle, the constriction of teeth as he thrust his sword into an onslaught of attackers, all rooting for his destruction. The bite of his handle into his skin while he stuck it through another’s neck. The gasping for breath as bile worked up his throat. Seeing his friends die on the swords of pigs. He was lucky that most people on his battalion were the best trained in the world. There was rarely a death, not in his watch.

The most recent death had been a few months ago, and was a young but promising archer. Minami, with dirty blond and red hair. He had been very energetic, constantly bouncing off the walls and driving the others mad. They didn’t see him die, but found his body later while clearing the battlefield of spare weapons, face down in the mud. His eyes were still open when he had breathed his last breath.

Otabek sighed. That had been hard on everyone. It was always difficult with the younger ones.

When he was clean, he climbed out of the bath, waited until his body dried, then pulled on his new clothes. The shirt was small, he couldn’t even pull it on. There were two holes in the back of the shirt. Probably where Yuri would fit his wings.

“Yuri?” He said, walking outside.

“In the front!” yelled the fairy. Otabek walked around to where the fairy was, still relaxed on the ground. As he approached, Yuri looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“The shirt is too small.” He said, handing it over. Yuri took it hesitantly, his cheeks slightly pink. Green eyes flickered down to his stomach.

“Sure, just give me a minute.” Said Yuri, turning around.

Was Yuri… flustered? Otabek looked away. No, that couldn’t possibly be the case.

“How does it even work?” Asked Otabek, lying down on the grass. The sun soaked into his skin.

“How does what work?” Asked Yuri, irritated.

“Magic.” He said, closing his eyes.

Yuri exhaled noisily. “It’s not like you would get it if I explained it anyway.”

That was partially true. Fairies did have better technology than humans did. They were natural star gazers, particularly interested in the world on a scale beyond what humans could experience. Their innate ability that went further than just curiosity, even into obsession. But Otabek was unwavering.

“Explain it anyway.”

“Well…” Thought Yuri for a moment. “Let’s just say for a moment that the sun,” he said, pointing at the sky. “Has these tiny balls of energy, shooting out towards us. You can’t see them, because they are really, really small. Are you still following?”

Otabek nodded, sort of.

“These tiny balls of energy hit the earth, and plants absorb them. I can also absorb these… energy balls.” He said, smirking, shaking his head. “But it isn’t very efficient. The energy takes time to build up again. I can get energy from food, but that is even worse. I would have to eat twenty pieces of that bread to even get the same amount of energy I get from just sitting here for a few minutes. The best way, by far, to collect energy is from living things.” His eyes glowed. “Although that can be very harmful.” Yuri placed his hand over a patch of grass. Coils spun up his hand, like some sort of strange script. It slipped under his palm, disappearing between the cracks in his fingers.

When he pulled his hand away, the grass was wrinkled, brown and lifeless. In the span of three seconds, that grass went from living to dead. Yuri poked the grass. It crumbled at the disturbance.

No wonder the king had been so terrified by magic users.

“Does it… work on humans?” He asked. As if he didn't know the answer already.

Yuri nodded. “Yes… I could, supposedly absorb your energy.” He wrinkled his nose. “But it’s a little crude, and would be very painful. You would just,” he said, smashing his pale fist into the dead grass, sending flakes everywhere. “Crumble. Like… dry mud.”

Otabek swallowed.

“Oh,” said Yuri, looking over at him. “Did that scare you?”

He shook his head. “No. You wouldn’t do that to me, right?”

Yuri scoffed. “I wouldn’t do that. Besides,” He said, looking over the sea. “I have enough sun to last me eons.”

 

*

 

Slowly, day by day, it got a little easier.

He had been unconscious for three days, so his battalion was long gone. He had been left behind. They probably thought he was dead by now.

He considered going back out there, to get back to Kazakhstan. His home base was there. They would eventually return. Would he be seen as a traitor if he turned up there out of the blue? Nobody had gone missing like he had.

By the third sunrise, he walked with a little more ease. Every day, the vines tightened just a little. It was fascinating, watching the growth.

Yuri was quiet at first. He spoke, occasionally, but otherwise just stayed indoors and fiddled with his potions and bottles of various things. Otabek had asked him about the multicolored bottles, but received a mean glare and a hiss.

One new thing he learned about fairies was their temper. The books he had read were mostly about the culture, traditions, and biology of the fae. Not much had been said for their emotions.

At the slightest annoyance, Yuri would stomp off upstairs, yelling and shouting. Even when the offense wasn’t clear, he would scream and run off. Afterwards, it would seem as if Yuri was completely over whatever he had done, acting like it wasn’t even a big deal.

But Yuri kept hiding from him. There was something about him that seemed ever so slightly off. Every time Yuri would come out of his room, he would pull on that jacket, crumpling his wings underneath the material. Otabek cringed, watching Yuri stuff his wings back, folding them.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” He said.

Yuri shrugged. “A little, why?”

“I don’t want to tell you what to do… but you shouldn’t fold them back like that. What if you damage them?”

Yuri stilled, pulling his hand away. “But, doesn’t it make you uncomfortable?” He said, pink rising to his cheeks.

“Why would it make me uncomfortable?” Asked Otabek, genuinely curious.

“I don’t know! Just… seeing them… and everything.” The fairy’s ears went red. “It’s pretty personal.”

“Oh, it is?” He said, thinking back to when Yuri had first shown him his wings on that first night. That wasn’t that personal, right? He tried to think of the list of customs he had read. Nothing came to mind about hiding wings.

“Yeah!”

“Well, does it matter?” He said, smiling.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Cried Yuri.

“I mean, if it hurts you, then you shouldn’t worry about how I feel.” He said. “If you’re worried about me seeing them, don’t be. I don’t mind.” Otabek felt his own face go a little red. “Don’t hurt yourself just to hide them away. It’s not going to help anyone if they end up breaking.”

Yuri glowered at him, as if he was saying: _Otabek, how dare you suggest that of me! Fuck you!_

For the rest of the night, he was quiet. Thinking. Their meals together were often quiet, not because they didn’t have anything to say. But there was something strange afoot, and Yuri liked his time alone. Otabek wanted to ask what it was like to fly, or fairy dating practices (not that he cared all too much). Every once and a while, Otabek would turn to catch Yuri looking at him.

But in the morning, when he came downstairs, he left the jacket behind. His wings stuck out of the back of his shirt, shimmering as he gracefully plopped down the stairs in his typical morning fashion. The light captured the patterns, displaying them on the walls like a stained glass window. Beautiful. Yuri rubbed his eyes, yawning. He frowned as he caught Otabek staring.

“The fuck are you looking at?” He said, sending Otabek another death glare.

“You’re in a good mood this morning.” Said Otabek, sipping his tea.

“Don’t be a bitch, I know you were staring.”

“Maybe.” Said Otabek. “How could I not? Your wings are beautiful.” The words came out before he could stop them, but even as they did he wouldn’t pull them back if you payed him too.

…

Yuri’s face got redder and redder. He looked like he was about to explode.

…

“Are your wings glowing now?” Said Otabek, eyes widening as the wings fluttered slightly. The green veins glowed, emitting light. Stunning. Beautiful. And undeniably gorgeous.

“Shut the fuck up or you’re not getting breakfast.”

The rest of the day, Yuri had a small smile on his face. And although unconsciously, Otabek began a mental list.

** Things about Yuri: **

  1. **He likes it when you compliment his wings.**



 

*

 

It was brilliant watching the way his wings reacted. They shivered and fluttered at every emotion, large waving motions when he was excited, and smaller, softer movements when he spoke of sad things. Angry quick flapping as Otabek fucked up while helping him garden, or the happy quivering when Otabek said something nice.

It was simply delightful. Otabek loved seeing them change and shift. They seemed to grow almost brighter the longer he had them out. The coat must have been doing something really bad, as there were still lines left from where they had been folded.

The desire to touch them didn’t go away. Throughout their many conversations, Otabek had to hold himself back from tracing a finger along the side, or trailing along a glimmering glowing vein. What would they feel like? Hard, like tough skin. Or soft, like the fur of a rabbit?

It burned within him, but he didn’t do anything.

He only yearned.

 

*

 

“Shit, goddamned, fuck!” Screamed Yuri from inside the house. Otabek came running in, his chest pulling tight.

“What?” He said, fulling expecting Yuri to be hurt, or lying on the floor, or….

“We’re out of potatoes.” Sighed Yuri.

“That’s what you were screaming about?”

Yuri nodded. “Ugh, this is just annoying.”

“Why?”

“It means that I have to go into town.” Said Yuri, closing the cupboard. “With people. Other people.” He ran a hand through his hair. Was this really stressing him out?

“Should I go?” Asked Otabek.

Yuri shook his head. “No, if you go alone, you won’t be able to find your way back. And I really don’t want to go alone.”

“Let’s go then.” Said Otabek. “We can take Delilah.”

“You’re forgetting something.” Said Yuri, pointing to his back. “Do you want me to be stoned? I can’t walk around like this. I’ll get my coat.”

“Wait. You can shrink, right?” Yuri’s eyes widened. He nodded. “Okay, so… could you shrink and come with me?”

“That…” Yuri thought for a long moment. “That could actually work.”

“Is that okay?” He still felt a little bad about getting Yuri to use his magic.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” Said Yuri. “It’ll work. Get a jacket, the big one. It has pockets.”

Otabek pulled the jacket from the closet, pulling it over himself. He turned, to where Yuri had already closed his eyes. Was it rude to look? He wondered. Yuri hadn’t chased him out yet. He wanted him to see it then.

Yuri put his palms flat over his chest, archaic writing appearing at his wrists and drifting downwards. He looked as if he were in the middle of some sort of dance, eyes shut tightly in concentration. Wings glowing, he began to shrink down, smaller and smaller, until he was the size of a teacup.

He made motions with his hands, glaring up at him.

Otabek offered his hand, placing it on the ground. Yuri kicked him, fluttering up to his shoulder.

“Hey,” His voice said, a lot quieter than normal. Almost regular speaking level. “My money is under the stove. And try not to squash me when I’m in your jacket.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, peeps! Thanks for reading! Tell me if you want more, or if you have any requests for side stories you want, because I'm always up for a challenge!


	3. A flower unplucked is but left to the falling,  And nothing is gained by not gathering roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Otabek visit the town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! New chapter, hell yeah! I was going to wait until next week to bring this out, but I know you guys really liked the first two, so... yeah. New chapter.

Otabek felt strange riding without his armor. Delilah was a little unnerved by how light he seemed to be, nuzzling his side affectionately.

“Shh.” He said softly, rubbing between her ears. “I’m fine, see?” She shook her head, snorting. Yuri scoffed.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He said, perched on Otabek’s shoulder.

“Hold on, I’m going to get on. Don’t fall.” He warned, pulling himself up onto the saddle. Yuri flew off his shoulder, fluttering in the air for a moment until he was on. “Are you okay?”

“Chill.” Said Yuri. “Stop fucking worrying. I’m really not that delicate.”

Otabek turned to where Yuri was, raising an eyebrow. “But you’re so tiny now. I feel like I could easily hurt you.”

“Fuck off.” Said Yuri, frowning. Why was he so moody all of a sudden?

They rode through the forest, Yuri directing him out of the clearing. The willow trees faded into birch and oak, the leaves covering the sky. He could see it coming in through small gaps, like a star speckled night all for them. The ground was spongy and damp, Delilah’s hoofs sinking slightly under each step. Soft grass, almost at knee length, brushed occasionally against his shoe.

“Okay, you might need a little help here.” Said Yuri, tapping his ear. He was so close Otabek could feel him breathing. He repressed a shiver. “I have a barrier here.”

“A barrier?” He said, looking around. There was nothing particularly interesting around them. Yuri hissed, blocking his ears.

“Hey, don’t be that loud, you’re going to blow my ears out! I’m right next to you!” He kicked his ear. It felt like a tickle.

“Sorry.” He said, lowering his voice to a more considerate tone. “So, a barrier?”

“Yep.” Spoke Yuri. Why did it feel so strange to have him this close? “Keeps out humans. If you had come wondering around here on your own, you would have gotten lost. It confuses them. Makes them think they have to go somewhere else, or turns them around without them being aware of it. Very complex magic. It took me years to set this up.” Said Yuri. “It needs a constant stream of magic to sustain it though. Which means, if I leave, the barrier will slowly fade away.”

“So, should I just walk through it?” He asked.

Yuri nodded. “It won’t hurt you.”

“I’ll be able to get back in, right?”

“As long as I’m here, I can tell you where to go. You won’t get lost.”

Otabek spurred his horse on, and they gently walked forward. “Can you see the barrier?” He asked.

“No, but I can feel it.”

Once again, Otabek nodded, not really understanding what he meant. Yuri often said things that Otabek didn’t understand. It was difficult to imagine being able to feel invisible walls and shrink yourself at will. There was so much more he wanted to learn about Yuri, but all of it seemed to be very insensitive to ask. The last thing Otabek wanted was to piss him off for real. The fairy threw mini tantrums daily, but they were little things, and nothing serious. Were all fairies like that, or was it just Yuri?

See, how do you ask that without sounding rude?

They rode for a while, an hour at most. Yuri was quiet, silently kicking his feet back and forth. “How far is it to the village?”

“Maybe, ten minutes? I don’t know. I don’t make the trip often.”

“Can’t you just,” he said, gesturing in the air. “Magic in some potatoes?”

Yuri groaned, almost slamming his tiny palms into his tiny face. “That’s not how magic works!”

“Then explain it.”

Yuri flicked his ear. “Fine. I can make things shrink or grow. I can ‘magic in’ heat, or remove heat to cool stuff down. I can rearrange things so that they are in a different shape, depending on what it is, though. I can speed up the process of various things, like healing or growth. For example,” he said, clearing his throat. “If I had a fucking potato plant, I could grow some fucking potatoes.” He said, hissing.

“But, why can you make invisible barriers, but you can’t make potatoes appear?” He asked, biting down on his lip to prevent a smile. Yuri got really annoyed when he smiled, always assuming that Otabek was laughing at him.

“It’s the transfer of energy!” Shrieked Yuri. “Are you stupid? They’re completely different things! The ‘barrier’ alters the way certain people think using energy! I can’t turn energy into potatoes! Trying to change energy into actual stuff is impossible. When I shrink or grow, I’m not making new stuff. I’m…” he said, thinking for a moment on how to explain it to the dumbass human. “I’m using the same stuff, just increasing the space.”

“Space?”

“Goddamn it!” He shouted. “I will have the same weight regardless of my size. Whether I am small or big, I won’t feel heavy. I just have my mass over a wider space.”

“Mass?” Asked Otabek, not following in the slightest.

“Everything.” Said Yuri, pointing all around him. “Is made up of really tiny shit. That tree, over there, is made of tiny stuff. Your dumbass? Tiny little pieces of stuff. I’m just increasing the space between that really tiny shit.” He explained, sounded exasperated. “It’s science. Fuck, you humans are stupid!”

Fairies were known to have studied the world in far greater detail than humans had. They were years ahead of everyone else. They _had_ been years ahead. Otabek nodded, still not really comprehending.

“How tiny, exactly, is this stuff?” He asked, pulling on the reins so Delilah didn’t trip on a large log.

“You can’t see it. But it makes up everything.”

Otabek frowned. That didn’t make sense, did it? How could tiny things make up everything? Shouldn’t everything just fall apart then?

“Then, we are also made with this tiny stuff?”

Yuri sighed. “Yes, we are made up of tiny stuff. Just grouped together.” He smirked, shaking his head.

“What?” Said Otabek, almost laughing.

“You are so stupid.” He said, laughing, his shoulders quaking.

“Aw, don’t you think you’re being a bit mean?” Said Otabek, smiling. It was good to see Yuri happy, even if it was at his expense. His smile was addictive and radiant. The fairy cackled, pounding his fists into Otabek’s shoulder.

“I said you were stupid, not that it was your fault specifically that you were stupid!” Yuri sighed, long and contentedly, calming down. “It’s not like it’s something I can blame you for. Your species may have the upper hand when it comes to warfare, but we always were far more interested in knowledge.”

“It’s not like I couldn’t learn.” Suggested Otabek. “You could teach me about this stuff.”

“It’s not like you need it. You can’t perform magic.”

“Still,” said Otabek. “I would love to learn more. Even if it’s only to shut you up when it comes to calling me stupid.”

Yuri hummed.

“Okay.” He said, amused. “I’ll teach you some stuff. No human is going to be able to believe you anyway, even if I did tell you.”

“I don’t care.” Otabek said, pleased. “I want to learn more about you.”

Otabek could see Yuri’s wings glowing out of the corner of his eye. Yuri was exulted, a small smile on his face. He was blushing.

There it was again. That sweet smell of honey and pear, with a hint of peppermint. He opened his mouth to ask, but looked back at Yuri. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, the quiet buzz in the air that calmed them both. It seemed very delicate, and very new in the sense that he hadn’t had that before. There wasn’t a desire to end the silence. It was just a persistent feeling of comfort in company that didn’t need to be broken. A soundless acknowledgement. A gentle hum.

“I’m glad.” Said Yuri, finally speaking

“I’m glad you’re glad.”

“Otabek.” The way Yuri said his name made his stomach tighten.

“Yeah?”

“Stop being so fucking weird,” He hissed. “Don’t you have a filter?”

“I’m not going to say things I don’t mean.” Otabek chided. “It’s far better to speak your mind.”

“You sound dumb.”

“Well, I deeply apologize, your majesty!” He said, completely serious. “For speaking my mind has made you uncomfortable, and I sincerely regret it. Next time, I will go for a ‘not-speaking’ approach, your highness!”

“Don’t be a bitch!” He screamed. “And don’t call me your highness, it’s creepy.”

“Your highness.” Teased Otabek. Yuri winced, glaring

“I will sew your mouth shut the next time you go to sleep!”

“Your majesty.”

“Fuck you!”

Otabek felt a grin creep up on his face, but his natural reflex kicked it back.

In all his years, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been this joyful. He hadn’t really been happy in general, but this felt infectious in a way nothing else had. It set him on fire, breaking down, no, burning everything that he had built up. It made him feel dizzy, like the smoke of his broken barriers was clouding his judgement.

 

*

 

“Stop.” Said Yuri, suddenly, standing up.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking around. In the distance, yes, he heard it. The sounds of people. Of banging metal and roaring markets and shouting barterers and children screaming in joy.

“We’re very close. I didn’t realize.” He said, sighing. “Okay.”

“How do we do this?” He asked, climbing down from his horse. Delilah grunted, nudging his side. She always got antsy in places she didn’t recognize.

“Just look around until you find the vegetable stall. It’ll only be a few coins, but don’t back down if she tries to get you to pay more. If she charges you more than ten, we don’t buy anything.” He grit his teeth. “Yuuko is a bitch. Her husband is worse. They’ll rip you off if you don’t fight for it.”

“Okay.”

“One tap is yes, two taps are no. More taps mean stop squishing me or get the fuck out. Got that?”

“Yep.”

“Just,” said Yuri, hovering. “Don’t squash me.” His green eyes were intense, glaring, determined.

“I won’t squash you.” Insisted Otabek. Yuri squinted at him, then nodded.

“Okay. Let’s get this over and done with.” He said, shaking his head.

Otabek opened the pocket of his jacket. “Don’t worry, I put the money in my other pocket. You’ll be fine. Look, I even put a cloth in there, it should be soft.”

“Wow, thanks mom. Shit, did you put the dishrag in here?”

“I washed it. And dried it. It’s clean.”

“Ugh, what the fuck Otabek!” He yelled, flying up to his ear.

“I washed it!” He insisted. “I can take it out-“

“Shut the hell up.” Said Yuri. “I want this trip to be over as soon as possible. So… I’ll just climb in. But I won’t be able to talk to you until you leave.”

Otabek nodded. “I can do that.”

“If you spend my money on anything else, I’ll kill you.”

“I am an honorable knight. I would never do such a thing.” He said, hand over his heart.

“Fuck me.” Said Yuri, shaking his head, exasperated. He flew downwards, hovering. He gave Otabek once last glare before landing on the hem of the right pocket, then jumping inside. The pockets were deep enough that he would be completely hidden at the bottom of it.

“You okay?” He said, receiving a kick against his hip not half a second later. Otabek waited for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll take that as a yes.” With that, he began to walk. He was careful not to press against his right pocket, avoiding the thing completely.

The town was lively, bustling with people. Trees lines close to the town, and the grass had been kicked and scuffed away to the edges, leaving only hard brown dirt. It pained his ears. A few days of quiet had made the typical noise of towns hurt his ears. He wasn’t growing weak, was he?

Delilah grumbled, but he pulled her along with him into the crowd. People bumped into him, unapologetic. Otabek looked in horror at his right pocket, resisting the urge to peak in to see if Yuri was okay.

Slowly, he reached a hand down into his pocket. He did it slowly, as to not accidently hurt him. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pinch against his finger, and he pulled it out fast.

Yuri had _bit_ him. Tiny marks of teeth made a pink mark against the back of his middle finger. Otabek frowned. Was that really necessary?

“Vegetables!” Called a voice. “Come get your vegetables!”

 _Ah, there it was_ , he thought. He pushed his way through the mob of people, shuffling slowly over to the stall.

An Asian man with spectacles stood over a large stall, full of various vegetables and fruit. “Four coins a bag!” He shouted, pointing. He noticed Otabek, and smiled. “Hello! Would you like to buy?” Otabek nodded.

“Do you know Yuuko?” He asked. Hopefully he had gotten the right stall.

The man nodded, shoving his glasses back up his nose. “Yes, but she’s busy today, so I’m managing things while she’s gone. Are you new?” He asked. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Yeah, I’m new.” He said. “A bag of potatoes please.”

“Oh, good!” Said the man. “We’ve had a lot of refugees come through recently. No one really stays. My name is Yuuri.” The man smiled shyly, grabbing a bag from the back of the stall.

“Bolat.” He said, thinking of the first name that came to mind. “What were you saying about refugees?”

“They are leaving the war zones. It’s really dangerous to live near the army. The enemy is burning their villages.” Yuuri raised his eyebrow. “I thought everyone knew that. Four coins, please.” He said, holding out his hand. Otabek placed them down, and grabbed the bag. “It’s a good thing we don’t live near them. Although, there are more and more battalions coming through every day. It’s never usually this busy though.” The man checked the coins in his hand, nodding. “Yep! Come again soon!” He called, turning to attend to another buyer.

Otabek made his way out as quickly as possible. He made his way deeper into the woods, climbing back onto Delilah. Yuri fluttered out of his pocket, setting himself back on Otabek’s shoulder.

“Thanks.” He said stiffly. “I hate going in there on my own. They always bump my wings. It really fucks then up. Like, I can’t straighten them out for a week.”

“No problem.” Said Otabek. “It wasn’t too stuffy in there?”

Yuri shook his head. “It wasn’t that bad. Why did you stick your hand in though?”

“I wanted to check if you were okay. It’s not like I could just ask, or pull open the pocket. And that man that slammed into me could have squashed you.”

“I thought you forgot I was there.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” He said, scoffing.

Refugees? He had never heard of this before. Was it really that bad at the front line? A streak of guilt ran through him. His battalion was heading right into that mess. He grit his teeth. He should have gone back as soon as he had been ready to walk. But now they were far away, and how was he going to track them down.

“Hey?”

“Yeah?” He said, lowing his tone so he didn’t hurt Yuri’s ears.

“Are you okay? You have this weird look on your face.” Yuri said, poking him.

“I’m fine,” He said, trying to look as neutral as possible.

“Okay.” Said Yuri, frowning. “I was just asking.”

Otabek didn’t need to tell Yuri. It was unnecessary. The fairy didn’t need to hear about his problems. He thought on the way there.

If he was honest with himself, he really couldn’t go back to his battalion, regardless of how much he wanted to. There was no way to know where they were, and it was foolhardy to go look for them. Otabek could always go back to Kazakhstan, but there was always a chance he would be labeled as a defector and a traitor. The new king wasn’t exactly kind to those he viewed as defectors. His fanciful dreams of being the hero of Kazakhstan were unrealistic now.

The best chance he had was to stay put. The only other option was to wait for his battalion to come back. They would know him, and he would be fine being let into the fold. People would vouch for him, and he would survive.

They were silent the rest of the way. Yuri yawned, stretching out his tiny limbs. “Otabek,” he said. “We’re at the barrier. Just go straight. Ignore everything else.”

“Is this really the right way?” Asked Otabek, stopping Delilah.

“Yes.”

“Wasn’t it-“

“Otabek, just go straight.” Said Yuri, kicking his shoulder.

“Okay, I get it.” He said, turning his horse. “It just feels like it’s the wrong way to go.”

“Barrier. Magic.” Yuri sighed, gesturing. “Yeah, it’s going to feel that way. Don’t focus on it.”

“No, I trust you.” Said Otabek, nodding.

They made it back to the cabin. The sun was just about to set, sinking into the deep blue. The full moon rising up over the water like a pale window to the heavens.

“Isn’t the moon supposed to have magical properties?” Asked Otabek, taking the saddle off of Delilah’s back, much to her delight as she started munching on some meadow flowers. They ate bread and salted meat in the garden.

“Not really. It was used for a few rituals, but it’s symbolic. It doesn’t do anything. The energy we get is barely anything.” Yuri looked at the moon, closing his eyes.

“What sort of rituals?”

“All sorts.” Said Yuri, fluttering down from off his shoulder. “Ah, fuck.”

“What?”

“I don’t have enough energy to grow back.”

Otabek’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Fuck my life,” He moaned, wings flapping angrily. “I’ll have to wait until morning.”

“Is that okay?” Otabek asked.

“This is my natural form. I’ll be fine, it just pisses me off.”

“You can survive a day being tiny.”

“I hate being this small.” Sighed Yuri. “It makes me an easy target. Fuck, I can’t use my bed.”

“Shrink the bed.” Suggested Otabek.

“Waste of energy.” Said Yuri. “And I’ve been big for so long, I threw away all my old stuff. Fuuuuuck.” He groaned. “I hate everything.”

Otabek walked inside, opening the door. He placed the potatoes and Yuri on the table (much to his dismay) and ran upstairs.

“Hey, don’t go- ugh!” Shouted Yuri, punching the bag of potatoes in anger. When Otabek came back, he had one of Yuri’s soft woolen scarfs in his hand.

“Here,” he said, showing Yuri. “I can put this in a bowl. It’ll be like a bed, right?”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “You want me to sleep in a bowl?”

“Listen, it’ll work!” Said Otabek fervently, grabbing one of the wooden bowls. “I can put it in here, and you can sleep on top.”

Yuri opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted again by the knight running back up the stairs to his room. He was forced to follow, not exactly pleased that Otabek was in his room in the first place.

Otabek placed the bowl on the bedside table, and the soft scarf in it. “See,” he said, pointing. “It’ll be really soft.”

Yuri climbed into the bowl, laying down on the soft material.

“It’s…” he said, stretching out, adjusting the cloth around him. “It’s pretty soft.”

Otabek glowed. Not literally, like Yuri’s wings. But figuratively. “So it’s okay?”

“It’s okay.” He said. Otabek got up to leave, yawning himself, but…

“Otabek.”

“Hmm?”

“You can sleep in my bed. It’s fine, I’m not using it tonight anyway. No need for you to sleep on the rug.” Yuri turned away, shoving his face into the material, hoping Otabek wouldn’t see the red tinting his cheeks.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” He said.

Otabek pulled off the large jacket, settling in in between the covers. In an instant, he was surrounded by that perfume of peppermint and pear, honey sweet zipping through him like an arrow. It was lethal, he realized, breathing it in as he closed his eyes. How could anything smell this good? It made him feel bewildered, but not in a bad way. Quickly, he dropped off the sleep, realizing what the scent had been the whole time.

It had been Yuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked this, and I'll be motivated to start on my next. I mean, something like 20 comments from people already? It's CRAZY!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! See you next chapter!


	4. A voice said, "Look me in the stars and tell me truly, men of earth. If all the soul-and-body scars, were not too much to pay for birth."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri reveals things about his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter today, because next weeks will be really long! I tend to got really emotional while writing certain things, and I can certainly say that I did have to take a break from writing this to cry :(
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy! Happy (or sad) reading everyone!

It was one of those times. One of the times where waking up could almost take hours, drifting back in out of dreams as the light peeped at the window. Minutes turned over to days while in-between consciousness and unconsciousness, completely relaxed in the soft feathery bed. The blankets held in warmth, much better than the rug on the floor. He was surrounded by clouds, slowly and steadily waking. Otabek was utterly relaxed, like nothing he had ever had before. Gently, he opened his eyes.

“Yuri?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t in the bowl anymore, it was missing from the bedside table. He got up, stretching. Otabek hadn’t slept that well in years. He checked his bandage again. It didn’t hurt anymore. He should tell Yuri.

“Yuri?” He called, walking down the stairs. The door was wide open, wind slightly pushing it back and forth. Otabek leaned, looking over the clearing of grass and flowers to where Yuri could be.

He found him by the willow trees next to Delilah. He lay upon a log, eyes closed, and his face pointing at the sky. He was a bit bigger than before, about as tall as a large loaf of bread standing upright, almost rising to his knee.

The fairy sang something, sweet and melodious. It didn’t seem to be any language he could recognize, but he listened anyway. Yuri had never sung before, at least not in front of him. He was intruding, but Otabek needed to listen. He was being pulled in, his eyes closing as the words curled and danced in his ears.

“ _Beautiful._ ” He whispered, leaning closer. Nothing he had heard, even in the courts of kings and queens had ever sounded quite like what Yuri was doing. Each verse had its individual melody, twisting up into high notes on the wind.

Then, steadily as it had begun, it faded, growing more and more quiet until it blended in with the noise of rustling trees and the lap of water upon the shore.

Otabek took a bath, and by the time he was out, Yuri was back to his regular size, walking around the kitchen. He actually seemed to be cleaning, wiping down the dark stains of various ‘magical’ potions he had spilled.

“Thank the gods!” Said Otabek. “I was beginning to think that you were going to stay small forever.”

Yuri scoffed, punching his shoulder. “Fuck no, I want my bed back.”

“I’m sure the bowl wasn’t that bad?” He asked.

“You weren’t the one sleeping in the bowl.” Growled Yuri.

“Am I supposed to go back to the rug then?” He said, raising his eyebrows. “Seriously? I can’t sleep on the rug now that I’ve slept in a proper bed.”

“What am I supposed to do about it?” Said Yuri, crossing his arms. Otabek waved his fingers in the air.

“Magic it.”

That earned him another punch to the shoulder from the fairy, bubbles of laughter bursting out of Yuri’s chest as he laughed.

“Sure, Otabek. I’ll figure something out. It’s a bit cruel to make you sleep on the rug.”

Sure enough, when he walked in from outside, a large version of the scarf he had stuffed in the bowl now was on the floor, stacked like a mattress.

“It’s not a bed.” Said Yuri, frowning. “But it’ll be better than just the rug.”

Otabek felt the urge to hug him. Would his scent be the same, the honey pear delight that made him drowsy and drunk without effort. _No, that’s stupid. Don’t be so strange_. “No, it’s perfect. Thank you, Yuri.”

Yuri shrugged. “I can get more, or make it bigger if you’re uncomfortable with it.” He flushed, turning to walk upstairs. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Said Otabek.

 

*

 

As gradually as the seasons, Yuri began to change as well. Closed and shut off, he started the summer. In the fall, he was smiling, grinning, sometimes even laughing.

And Otabek fell for him. Hard.

The effort that it took to pull back was mind-blowing. He savored the brush of their elbows while they cleaned the dishes, but wished for the touches to linger, to hold. The awful longing in his chest, even just to get close. It burned him.

But Yuri’s smile was bright, and he was happy. Otabek couldn’t expect Yuri to want what he wanted.

He had crushes before. The red haired girl that ran the bakery, with her sweet sugary smile. The foreign woman with ebony skin and a brilliant laugh that ended up marrying the son of the blacksmith. Otabek knew what he felt like to have that constant hum in his stomach. He knew the embarrassment and the burning longing that snuffed you out and left you cold.

It took him a while to realize that he felt that way about Yuri. It certainly wasn’t expected, and it certainly wasn’t normal. Of course, Yuri was feminine in definite ways, his hair was long, and his face seemed alarmingly beautiful at times. But he was very much a man in every way. Otabek couldn’t picture him any other way.

It confused him. He had heard of men who fancied other men but doubted it’s validity. It seemed absurd, counter to everything he had been taught about the world.

Yuri was going to be happy. Otabek wasn’t going to interfere with his strange feelings, no matter how much he wanted to have him close.

He was content with what Yuri had already given him.

Friendship.

 

*

 

“We have to harvest the carrots tomorrow.” Said Yuri. “If we leave them any longer they’re going to go bad.”

“Sure,” Said Otabek, stirring a pot of some sort of stew of cabbage and fish. “We’ll do that tomorrow.”

Yuri sighed, leaning against the wall. He poked at the edge of the flame with his finger, pulling back before it could burn him. “Maybe I’ve found a use for you then.” Said Yuri, shaking his head. “You can help me garden.”

“I thought I was a little more useful than that.” Said Otabek, an easy smile on his face. “Oh well.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it. Having you here,” Yuri said, pausing for a beat. “It doesn’t feel weird anymore. When you first came here, I wanted you gone as soon as you were in my house.” He chuckled. “But it feels like you’ve been here forever.”

…

“Really?” Asked Otabek, looking at Yuri, really looking. His wings fluttered gently against the wall, back and forth in slow motions. Yuri blushed.

“Yeah.” He said, staring back. Bright green, piercing. Sharp enough to kill thousands of men. Otabek could never look for too long at those eyes. They saw right through him.

“What were you singing outside?” He asked. “I’ve never heard that before.”

“Oh, that?” He said, looking slightly relieved. “It’s just a song. Nothing important.” He thought for a moment before speaking. “My mom used to sing it to me.”

They ate, stuffing their bellies to block out their feelings of uncertainty and longing for the past.

“It’s very beautiful.” Said Otabek, eyes soft and sincere. He wasn’t going to pressure Yuri. Yuri didn’t talk about his past, not at all their meals or their long talks in the tall meadow grass. Fae stuck together. Families didn’t separate. Only one outcome was available for Yuri’s family. It lay between them, thrown out onto the hardwood floor, the ‘thing’ visible for all. She wasn’t alive, was she?

“She…” Yuri said, sighing deeply. “She taught me that song, just before…” he broke off, covering his face with his hands. “You know.”

His heart twisted.

“I was separated from her when I was four, so I didn’t really know her that long. But, she… cared. Unlike most people.” Yuri ate his stew and then placed his bowl down.

“Did you live in a village?” He asked, trying to change the subject that was so obviously hurting Yuri.

Yuri nodded, his face still covered. “It was pretty big, before everyone was chased out. And murdered.” He shuddered, a chill running through him.

“You don’t need to tell me anything.” Said Otabek, leaning forward. He didn’t want Yuri to feel like he needed to say a thing. Yuri didn’t owe him that part of his life.

“Everyone.” He choked suddenly, pressing into his eyes with his palms. “Everyone I know is gone.” Something wet dripped down his chin. Fuck, he needed to hold himself together. Otabek wanted to stop those tears, to hold him so Yuri didn’t fall apart. To _kiss_ those tears away if need be.

“Yuri-“

“You’re the only person I’ve really talked to in years!” He cried. “You don’t know what that does to someone. Not talking for so long, it really messes with you.” Yuri sniffled, the tears clogging up his nose. “You lose sense of time. You lose yourself.” He rubbed his palms in, shaking his head. “Everything’s been fuzzy for years.”

“I’m…” he began, unable to think of something to say. He needed to comfort Yuri, but the words wouldn’t stick, pulling away before he could even think of a cohesive sentence. He felt his hands shake, unable to even do anything as the man before him fell apart.

He did the only thing he could think to do, wrapping his arms around the fairy’s willowy frame, gathering him up in his arms and pulling him into his chest. Yuri shuddered, a sob from him hitting Otabek like a dagger before he embraced Otabek, his face buried in his chest. His wings shook as he cried into Otabek.

“Hey,” He said, rubbing circles into his back. “It’s going to work out.”

Yuri shook his head, clutching onto Otabek tighter, pulling on him. Sobs wracked through his body, quivering wings brushing up against his hands.

“I’m not leaving. Not anytime soon. I’ll be here. I won’t go.” He said, pulling Yuri in tight. “Are you listening, Yuri?” He asked, closing his eyes as he felt a pang in his heart. “Because I am staying.” Tears ran down Yuri’s cheeks. Otabek wouldn’t do anything more. He would hold him as long as Yuri needed, no longer. It wasn’t his place.

His cried got louder, a patch of tears sticking his shirt to his skin. Otabek rubbed his thumb soothingly against his back, murmuring in soft tones. The crying didn’t cease, not for a long while. He lost track of time as Yuri wept. He rocked him back and forth steadily, hoping that anything would calm him down or at the very least make him feel like he wasn’t about to shatter.

Eventually, late into the night, Yuri raised his head from his chest, turning it so his ear was pressed against him.

“I’m sick of losing people.” He whispered.

“I know.” He said, because what else could he say?

“Fuck,” said Yuri, reaching up a hand to wipe at his eye. “I hate crying.”

“That’s okay,” Otabek rested his head on Yuri’s shoulder, because if he saw the hurt in Yuri’s eyes or the red of his cheeks from all the crying, he would lose it. He picked up Yuri, the man clinging closer to him as he was lifted into the air. He carefully moved so he didn’t snag Yuri’s wings on the stairs, not touching the wings themselves, though.

He laid Yuri down on the bed, pulling back the blankets before gently putting him down on his side. Yuri’s face was red, burned by his tears.

“I’m just going to get something, I’m not leaving.” He reassured, running down to get a cloth. He dipped the cloth in some water and dabbed the tears away. He wiped Yuri’s forehead, pushing his long hair behind an ear. He got up to leave, but a hand gripped his wrist tightly.

“Don’t go,” Whispered Yuri, green eyes glowing with something uncertain. Something fragile. Otabek felt something inside him melt. “Don’t leave me alone tonight.” He was surprised by the request, but slowly sat down beside the bed.

“I’ll stay here.” He said, leaning against the frame of the bed.

Yuri shook his head. “No,” Did Yuri mean for him to climb in the bed? If that was what Yuri wanted, then he would get exactly that.

“Let me just get another shirt,” he said. The one he was wearing was tear-soaked. Yuri sighed, letting go of his wrist.

Hesitantly, he slid in, carefully lowering himself. The bed dipped under him, and he pulled up the covers around their bodies. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask _is this okay,_ or, _is this what you need me to do_? The bed barely fit the two of them, just enough space to have the two of them facing each other. Yuri seemed like he was hunched over.

Otabek leaned with his arm, brushing his shoulder. “I’m not leaving.” He said. “I can’t. If I go back to Kazakhstan, I’ll be labeled as a traitor. Used as an example.” He slowly pulled his hand back. They were only a few inches apart, nose to nose. “I can’t go back. Even if I wanted to leave.” There was no chance his battalion would shy away from the battle. There was too much riding on it. He wouldn’t see them again, he realized, a lump rising in his throat. “I’ll have to stay.”

Yuri sighed, opening his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, staring at him for a second. “Thank you.”

He slowly drifted off into a restful sleep. His chest rose and fell. Yuri was completely out of it, tired from the crying. Otabek watched him, waiting until he was sure Yuri was asleep before allowing himself to close his eyes.

 _I won’t let you get hurt_ , he thought fiercely, digging his fingernails into his palms. _I’ll protect you._ With that, he let himself relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew!
> 
> I'm going to rewatch episode 10, because this chapter had me a little down!  
> Tell me what you thought in the comments, I'd love to hear some feedback on this!
> 
> Also, all my titles for the chapters come from Robert Frost poems.


	5. Wild, easily shattered rose. Come, be my love in the wet woods; come, where the boughs rain when it blows.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek has a bad dream and learns more about the vine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I've been listening to Tom Odell - Heal while writing this, so feel free to put that on while reading if you feel so inclined!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Peaceful.

Cloudy morning light streamed in through the open curtains from the circle window, basking the room in pale light. It softened Yuri’s features, rounding out the hard lines of his brows, the bite of his grin. His cheeks seemed fuller, not the burning red from the night before, but a faint pink that dusted his cheekbones.

Beautiful.

Yuri’s arms were still around him, his nose pressing into his collar bone. There was warmth, lazy warmth that settled deep in his embrace. The scent of pear, delicate in the air, made him sigh.

Would Yuri be okay? Otabek wanted to ruin whoever had done this to him. The broken cries as he tore into his own memories of the past. Who could ever hurt someone that deeply? His heart simmered in his chest.

His own people had done this to him. Killed his whole race, slaughtering them in droves. Even the thought sent a wave of guilt through him. He couldn’t allow for anything to happen again. Nothing would hurt his friend again. Yuri deserved to be happy. Nothing would stand in the way of that.

His own mother recounted stories of her brothers going off to war. Many had returned with horrific injuries, and tales of tiny magical beings with the strength of ten men. He had always wondered whether those stories were true. After all, how could a being that small possess so much power? But now he saw it. It was obvious. Yuri had more strength than he would ever have. Otabek wouldn’t be able to live with himself if that had happened to him.

Yuri stirred against him for a moment, mumbling.

“-Bek.” He sighed, kicking at the sheets that tangled at his legs. “Fucking-“

Otabek went to move away, but the arms around his waist tightened. Otabek didn’t want to let go. He never wanted to let go, but did it even matter what he wanted? He shifted slightly, to the utter annoyance of sleeping Yuri, who had no problem with kicking him in the shin.

 _Fine,_ he thought. _I’ll hold you until you tell me to let you go._

Slowly, Yuri woke up. He groaned, rubbing his eyes, one arm still around Otabek. “Goddamn it,” he grimaced, pressing into his temples. “Ugh, too fucking bright.” He said, squeezing his eyes shut. Then he opened them. He stared at Otabek, to where Otabek’s arm rested under his own neck, to where Yuri still held him.

“Hey,” Said Otabek, gently pulling away from him. “You okay? I… uh.” He trailed off, face growing red. _Shit._ This was supposed to be about Yuri, asking him if he was okay. Why did his damn feelings need to get in the way of everything? Yuri shook his head but pulled back all the same.

“Stop talking.” He commanded, which shut him right up. “You…” he mumbled, cheeks getting even further pink. “You didn’t need to do that. Last night.”

 _I had to._ He wanted to say. _I needed to do that._

“It’s fine.” He said. Yuri’s furrowed his brow. Otabek imagined running a thumb down his forehead, smoothing out the line. “I didn’t mind. I don’t mind.” He said, heat prickling at his neck.

“I’m not weak.” He murmured.

“I know you’re not.” Yuri couldn’t possibly seem himself as weak.

“I’m not usually like this.” He said. “I don’t cry. I don’t cry.” He said, biting his lip.

“Yuri,” He said, sitting up on the bed. “I don’t see you that way.” Yuri’s eyes went wide. Eyes of a soldier, he thought, a tremor working through his spine. “Can’t you see how strong you are?”

Yuri’s teeth bit hard enough into his lip that it probably stung. He sat up, kicking the covers back. His chest pulled tight as Yuri hugged him. “Thank you,” He sighed, the edge of his mouth raising slightly. “Heh,”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just… thanks.”

 

*

 

Just like that, it became part of their routine.

He had been completely surprised when he found Yuri in front of the fire, shrinking the makeshift mattress. He didn’t ask, clearing away the dirty dishes as Yuri focused. A sense of fear went through him for a second, wondering whether Yuri was planning to send him away. Otabek didn’t have anywhere else to go at this point.

When it was time for bed, he followed Yuri upstairs, about to ask where he would sleep again tonight, only to be pointed towards the bed.

“What, is there a problem,” Grumbled Yuri. Otabek shook his head. If Yuri needed him to be there every night for the rest of his time, he would gladly be there.

It was awkward at first, adjusting from the hard floor to the soft bed, but he managed. There wasn’t a lot of room to move, having Yuri only a hair breath away from him. Yuri would mumble in his sleep, mostly cussing, but sometimes he would speak in gentle, rounded words that he didn’t understand. Sometimes he would pull on the blankets, pulling them away from Otabek. He didn’t get that cold, so he let him take the blankets. Yuri would kick in his sleep as well, constantly bruising his shin, and pressing his cold feet against Otabek’s legs.

“Are you serious?” He asked in the morning, discovering the blankets that he had pulled from Otabek, and then tossed on the floor. “Just pull them back!”

“It’s really not that cold.” He said, frowning.

“If you get sick and die, who’s going to have to dig your grave?” He threatened. “Because I’m not going to.”

“I’m not cold.” He insisted. “And I’m not going to die.”

“Bullshit!” hissed the fairy. “Pull the fucking blankets back, stupid.” He muttered, pulling on a shirt.

And, yes, Yuri had started sleeping without a shirt. It drove Otabek mad. He didn’t have the muscles that he had, but they were still there. Otabek resisted running his hands down Yuri’s back, to where the wings sprouted from his back. There were strong muscles along his spine, lime green veins glowing softly underneath his pale skin as it ran up and up, right to his wings. They started at his mid-back, then up to his shoulder blades.

And more than anything, he wanted to touch those muscles. Would they be as hard as they looked, stretching beneath his skin as Yuri gardened, sun light hitting his wings, scattering the light. He wanted to really feel those muscles. The imagery made him dizzy, heat pooling in his stomach. It had been happening more recently. He tried his best not to look, but it was almost impossible at this point.

But it was business as usual. Yuri felt more comfortable with him, talking and laughing without a care in the world. But Otabek still felt this barrier. Not telling Yuri how he really felt put something between them. Yuri didn’t notice it, but it was glaringly obvious to Otabek. His thoughts before were about protecting Yuri from the past. Now he was more worried about protecting Yuri from his ideas. The ideas involving quiet nights, lips pressed against skin, hands caressing in a downwards direction, and low groans from the backs of throats. 

Yuri didn’t need to worry. He was safe. He would stay safe. Nothing could come through the barrier, and they were both safe in their little corner of their world.

 

*

 

_“Beka,” said the fairy, giggling. “Come on, Beka!” Yuri’s braids were out, the wind gently pulling on the strands. He caught the ends, running both hands through his blond hair._

_“You always look so beautiful,” he sighed. “I wish I was as graceful as you.” Yuri blushed, grinning._

_“Shit, stop making me wince.” Said Yuri. Otabek brushed his hair with his fingers. “Ugh, if you’re going to do that, at least don’t tease me.”_

_“I’m not teasing.” He said, leaning closer. “You are very beautiful.” Yuri laughed, his eyes getting softer._

_“I never knew you were the romantic type. I always pictured you as more of the strong, silent type. Imposing,” he chuckled, touching Otabek’s wrist, trailing down his veins. “Demanding.” He placed a kiss against the skin, laughing at the red on Otabek’s cheeks. “Shit, you’re cute,” Yuri said._

_“Cute? I realize I’m not exactly ‘strong and silent,’ but that doesn’t make me cute.”_

_“Beka,” he said. “You. Are. Adorable.” He said this completely seriously, cackling at Otabek’s expression. “I can’t even kiss you without your whole face going red. If that’s not adorable as fuck, then I don’t know what is.”_

_Otabek smiled gently, before leaning in to give Yuri the kiss of his life. **No,** he thought into the kiss, running his fingers across Yuri’s skin as their lips moved against the other. **Have you seen yourself, Yuri?** He groaned, splaying his hand over the soft spot below Yuri’s jaw. Yuri laughed, turning away and kissing his cheek. When he opened his eyes, Yuri was utterly inflamed, panting, lips red._

_“Shit,” he moaned, kissing him again. “Stop being so damn sexy, you’re going to kill me.”_

_“It’s more the other way around.” He said, chuckling._

_“Don’t be a bitch, Beka.” He said, pulling on the edge of Otabek’s pants, sending a wave of heat through his body. “Come on, I-“_

“Otabek, wake the hell up.” Said a harsh voice, two green eyes glaring down at him.

Otabek heaved, staring up at Yuri. Just a moment ago, he had seen so clearly those eyes, soft as he tugged at his clothing.

Shit.

He felt a surge of nausea. That had been wrong. That had been so wrong.

“Otabek?” Said Yuri and just his concern made the heat in him grow taut. “You’re spacing out.”

“What?” He panted.

“You kept making weird noises.” Said Yuri. “I thought you were hurt.” Otabek shook his head.

“No, I’m fine.” He said, wanting desperately to run out of the room, run further and further until he was lost. Oh, gods, this was bad.

“Sure,” Said Yuri apprehensively. “I’m going to take a bath.”

“Okay,” He said, shutting his eyes. Flashes of Yuri hit him like rain, images of his chest, moaning as he sank into the hot water. He dug his fingernails into his forearm, the pain quickly removing them.

As soon as Yuri left, he ran outside. Checking for a moment to make sure Yuri was gone, he walked into the trees. He walked until he was far enough away for Yuri not to hear him. He shoved his arm over his mouth, masking his moaning as he quickly and quietly finished in the bushes. Otabek tried not to think of the way dream-Yuri had cried ‘Beka,’ or the strong muscles of his back. He failed entirely, soft chuckles and pale skin and green eyes dancing before him as he saw white.

Shit, he thought, wiping his brow. He felt sick. He was sick. Yuri hadn’t asked for this. Yuri shouldn’t have to deal with this. It was exploitation. He had just used Yuri for his own gratification. Disgusted with himself, he scrubbed his hand until the skin was pink. Any pleasure he had just felt dissolved into queasiness. He made sure none of it was on his clothes before leaving.

When he was inside the small house, he made himself useful, clearing away the dust and making the bed.

“Otabek,” Called Yuri.

“Yes?” He said, shame forcing its way up his chest, shoving at ribs, prodding his heart.

“The bath is free.” Said Yuri, pointing at the door. Otabek’s heart jumped. He knew it was irrational, but he felt as if Yuri could see it on his face. See what he did. Fairies couldn’t read minds, but, at that moment, he felt like everything he thought could be seen. It terrified him.

“Okay,” He said, quickly grabbing his clothes. He needed to scrub it away under the hot water, wash away all his thoughts and feelings about the beautiful man beside him.

 

*

 

“I’m fine,” sniffled Yuri, swaying slightly as he tried to get out of bed. Now wasn’t this ironic?

“Yuri, you’re sick,” he said, shaking his head. “Come on, get back into bed.”

“Otaaaabek,” Yuri groaned, slamming his fist into Otabek as he was laid back down underneath the covers. “I’m going to be fine,” he wiped Yuri’s nose, pressing his wrist against Yuri’s forehead.

“Yuri, you have a fever.” He frowned, the protesting fairy trying aimlessly to kick at him.

“Stop being an asshole!” Cried Yuri. “I can still walk.”

“You are not walking today,” said Otabek. “If it really bothers you, I’ll go check the traps today.”

“Alone? The fuck, Otabek?” Yuri glared at him, watery eyes. Otabek wiped his nose again.

“Yes, alone.” He crossed his arms.

“You’re going to get lost,” He said. “You can’t tell where the boundary is.”

“We’ve walked that path ten thousand times,” Said Otabek. “Don’t be like that Yuri,”

“If you take more than an hour,” Threatened Yuri, raising a shaky finger. “I’ll track you down, and kill you.” He coughed, making a motion in the air.

“Kill me?” He said, smiling slightly at the inebriated fairy. “You’ll be that angry?”

“You condescending fuck,” sniffled Yuri, before sneezing. Otabek gave him the handkerchief. “Don’t take too long.”

He came back as soon as he could, running from trap to trap, a path they walked often. He ran back inside, hoping that the fairy was still inside. He stumbled in, slamming the rabbit down on the table before running upstairs to…

Yuri was asleep, snoring with his mouth open. Otabek tried not to laugh, the fairy that had been angrily trying to convince him to stay was now snoring loudly. He had kicked the blankets off and onto the floor.

Otabek picked back up, placing it back over him. The fever would have to be burnt off. It was just a cold, he thought.

He would make a broth. Mother had always made broth when he was sick. He washed his hands, starting the fire up, and began cooking.

Just as he was about to put in the onion, heavy footfalls came down the stairs, Yuri rubbing his red nose as he came down the stairs. He had tied the blanket around his shoulders, frowning. “What are you making?”

“Rabbit broth.” He said, pointing at the pot. “It smells amazing.”

“If only I could smell.” He said, sitting down beside the fire. “Do you need help? I can still move my arms,” he said, waving them slightly to show, yes, that he could still move his arms. Otabek shook his head.

“Relax, get warm,” Otabek said, finally done chopping the carrots. “It’ll be done in half an hour.”

Yuri nodded, leaning closer to the fire. His wings were flat, coming around with the blankets. They touched his shoulders, peeking out from both sides.

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

“No, they aren’t that rigid.” He said, “How do you think I sleep on my back? As long as they aren’t pushed down, or pulled up, or crumpled, it’s fine.”

“Do they rip easily?” He asked, which made Yuri cringe. “They seem so thin and delicate.

“They don’t really, rip. They can bruise, and dry out, and if they get too dry they can crack.” He flinched. “But they are difficult to rip. The way the skin is,” he said, touching the tip of his wing poking out over his shoulder. “They are getting thicker now.” He coughed again, wheezing.

“Shouldn’t you, heal yourself?” He said, not wanting to provoke him.

“It... doesn’t really work out,” Yuri said.

“What doesn’t?”

“Healing, it’s a raw deal.” He said. “I… it’s not the first choice.” He said. “You’ll never get rid of that vine in your chest.”

_What?_

“I don’t understand…” he said, sitting down.

“I wouldn’t have used it if I had any other choice.” Said Yuri, frowning. “It was the only way to save you. At that point, I thought you would be gone in a couple days, at least.”

“Is it bad?” he asked. “It’s not… going to hurt me is it?”

Yuri’s eyes shut, and he shook his head. “No. But it won’t go away.”

“I’m fine with that,” he said. “It’s not too bad. It just looks a little weird.”

Yuri sighed. “I… I don’t exactly know how to… explain this.” He said.

“Explain what?”

“Well,” he said. “I can… sort of… tell if you’re hurt.” Otabek didn’t really react, which made Yuri grit his teeth. “If I wanted to, I could tell what you’re feeling.”

He broke out in a cold sweat.

“You can tell what I’m thinking?” He said, heart beating quickly, but Yuri shook his head vigorously, moving closer.

“Calm down, only if I wanted to!” He hissed. “And I don’t give a fuck about what you’re feeling. And it would take a ton of energy anyway. Right now,” he said, leaning back. “I could only tell if you got really badly hurt. Like, your arm was cut off. I’d be able to tell. But nothing else,” he said, insistent. “Believe me, it would be a huge invasion of privacy.”

“So, you haven’t done it?” He said.

“No. You could tell if I did, it would burn a little.” Yuri muttered. “Healing, it creates a link between the two things. I have to constantly supply energy to it, otherwise it would rot inside of you. You could also give it a little energy, but not enough to keep it alive. But, what that means is, if I die, you die.”

“Shit.” He said. He was dizzy, leaning against the chair to steady himself.

“You see why I don’t want to use that shit?” He said, rubbing his nose. “It’s a drain on me, and on you. Not to mention it creates a link between us, which, to be honest, I don’t want. It’s bound to you forever.” He huffed. “I really didn’t want this. I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner.”

He shook his head. “No,” Yuri looked up, eyes gleaming. “If that was your last option, then I’m grateful. Just… don’t invade my mind. That is… way too much.”

“Gladly,” Said Yuri, but his eyes were bright, and he seemed slightly happier. “Gods, I worried you might be angry.”

“Why would I be angry?” He said, stirring the broth. “You saved my life.”

“I didn’t even ask your permission.”

“I was about to die, Yuri. I think you can make an exception in this case.”

Yuri shook his head. “It’s just uncouth. And with a human, no less.”

“What’s so uncouth about that?”

“Well, you know, in my culture,” he said chuckling. “We generally don’t just go around doing that thing. It’s considered…” he said, thinking for a moment. “A very personal thing. And for me to just do that, one sided and all.” He shook his head. “You don’t just do that with any random stranger. Shit, I wonder what mom would say.”

Otabek poked the vine through his shirt. “Why did you do it then?” He asked. “It’s not like my people have exactly been the kindest towards yours. And you had to do this,” he said, pointing at the plant. “Which, clearly, has been a detriment towards you.”

“I think, I was just…” He sighed, turning away. “I was sick of being alone. I saw you lying there. I couldn’t just leave you. You looked so… lifeless. Walking away, I couldn’t really have done that.”

Otabek smiled at him. “Yuri.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Honestly, it’s fine. I’m so happy that I’m with you here, now. So… don’t regret doing that.” Yuri scoffed.

“Gods, you are cringy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to write a soulmate AU. This is sort of soulmate-ish, right?
> 
> I'm calling it now, though, Yuri has totally been tempted to read Otabek's thoughts. I'd like to think he has been able to hold himself back. But who knows, I haven't written that part of the story yet!
> 
> Recommendation! There is a mafia AU called Separation Anxiety by Okaeri_Kairi, and it is the best thing I have read in a while! Don't read if you're sensitive to violence, though!
> 
> Tell me if you liked it, or if you want more (NOW), and I'll see you all next chapter!


	6. I think I know enough of hate, to say that for destruction ice is also great, and would suffice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek speaks of his past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very happy with this chapter, but I can always edit it later! Here it is!

“You know, Otabek,” Said Yuri. “You always ask me about my past. But you never really talk about how you were raised.” He grinned. “Come on, how did you end up in the Army? Where are you from? What was it like?”

“One at a time,” He chided. “And it’s really not all that interesting.”

“I don’t care.” Said Yuri. “Besides, you know pretty much everything about my culture. I barely know anything about yours.”

Otabek barely knew anything about fairy culture, other than what he had read in books, which had hardly been accurate. But Yuri seemed so insistent, so excited. “Fine, I’ll tell you.”

“Thank the gods, I was starting to get sick of your bullshit.”

“It’s not exactly the most exciting story,” he said.

“Tell me!” Exclaimed the fairy.

“Okay, okay!” He said, biting down a smile. “It starts off like this…”

 

*

 

He yelped as the wooden sword bit into his leg.

“Ow,”

“Again,” Shouted Mother. She didn't seem to care at all at the pain he felt.

“But I keep messing up!” He whined.

“It doesn’t matter how much you mess up,” she said, pulling him up. She sighed, a stray dark red hair falling in her eyes. “Come on, hold it up.”

“I hate fighting,” he mumbled. His анам sighed, holding her wooden sword up.

“It doesn’t matter if you hate it,” She sat, gritting her teeth. “You need to learn, and I won’t be able to take care of you forever.”

“Can’t we just stay here?” He said, frowning. “With the pigs, and Mel, and the big castle.” He said. Otabek often looked at the castle. It was close by, with large stained windows and beautiful white stones. What would it be like to live there? He wondered.

“No,” she said. “You can’t stay here forever. No one can.” She sighed, placing her own sword beside her, realizing that her son wasn’t going to even try. “You need to make your own way in the world.”

“I don’t want to.”

“It’s not about what you want.” She said, gritting her teeth. “Haven’t I already told you that? See,” she said, pointing at the castle. “People like me will never live like this. You will never live like that. But if you fight,” she said, poking him in the stomach. “And if you get good, you can do better than me.”

He knew it wasn’t about what he wanted. None of it was.

“I wish Father could teach me.” It was mistake as soon as it left his mouth. He realized it as soon as his mother bit her lip. He felt the sting across his face before he saw the hand.

“Don’t.” She said, holding a quivering finger to his cheek. Her eyes, pale dead amber, made him feel runny and sick. “Your cheek is going to get you nowhere good.” Mother snapped. She turned, running a hand through her hair. She walked off, slamming the door of their house behind her.

Otabek frowned, his lip beginning to tremble. He hadn’t meant it! He didn’t mean to make her cry, he knew Dad was dead, it had just slipped out! He slid down to the grass, the dampness seeping into his pants. He tore pieces out, piling it on his foot. Kicking the leaves off, he rubbed his eyes. Otabek wouldn’t cry. He _wouldn’t_ cry. His cheek still stung, and he held it with his hand.

When he came back inside, he saw Mother at the fire pit, clutching a pot to her chest. Tears were streaming down her face, eyes closed as she rocked the vase. A spike of ice struck him cold.

“ _Baby, it’s going to be okay,_ ” she whispered, arms shaking. “ _I won’t let you go._ ” She shook, arms wrapping tighter. Otabek’s chest twisted up, eyes growing wet.

“анам,” He said, trembling. She hunched over, turning her head. Her eyes grew wide, the pot in her hands glowing in the light of the fire. Her hands were shuddering, like she was about to let it fall.

“Beka,” She said, tears dripping from her chin.

“анам,” he cried, his own arms wrapping around her. “анам, don’t drop him!”

She shook her head, eyes shining yellow, the flicker of flame on her skin. “I won’t drop him.”

He cried into her arms, ugly tears sliding down his cheeks. They looked like molten gold in this light, dripping to the floor and soaking into the fabric of анам’s dress.

Otabek remembered when he had found out his father was dead. The army was traveling through their town, and his mother had gone out early in the morning to find the commander. Surely, he would have information. When she came back, all she had in her hands was a pot. Анам didn’t tell him anything, glaring whenever he questioned her.

She hadn’t told him what was inside. When she went to bed, he had crawled out from between her arms. He pulled it from the cabinet, and stuck his hand deep inside. The rim was just big enough for him to slip his hand in. It was like clay, pieces of dried clay in his hands. It smelled stale, like mold and iron.

He still felt it when he thought of the look of horror she gave him when she saw. She pulled the pot from his arms, stuffing it back in its place before scrubbing his hand raw. The clay stayed under his fingernails for days afterwards. He threw up when he found out what it had been.

“They did this,” She said. “The magic users.”

“They need to die.” He said, gritting his teeth. They had murdered Father. There was no forgiveness. He was going to be a hero, and they had reduced him to mud.

“Yes,” She said, hugging him. “Do you understand now? Why I want you to train, to fight?” She pulled back, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “Your life is so important. You will become strong, and you will kill if you need to.” Her eyes were intense, glaring at him, determined. “And you will defend kings or queens.”

“анам, I don’t know how to fight!”

“You will learn how to fight.” She said. “And you will try your best every day to become better than the day before.” She touched his chest, between his ribs, over his heart. “Your life won’t be like mine. I’ll make sure of it.”

 

*

 

It had happened slowly, then all of a sudden. He found her in bed, heaving into a pail. There was nothing he could do but rub her back as she vomited.

“анам?”

“Go get Mel,” She wheezed, holding her chest. Something about her chest was off, a large bumpy shape on the side.

Mel saw it first. The bulky pink lump to the right of her breast, angry and red. He cringed. It was awful, the look on Mel’s face.

“I’ve seen this before,” She said, frowning. “This isn’t an affliction that you can fix.” She stood up, pulling his mother’s shirt back up. “You’re going to die.” The blood in his face drained.

“Mel, isn’t there anything?!” He said, tugging on her sleeve.

She shook her head. “Sorry, Otabek. You can’t fix that.”

“What about a healer!?” He said, lip trembling. She frowned, shaking her head.

“Don’t start talking like that, it won’t get you anywhere good.” She said. “Go get your mother some poppy from the herbalist. I’m sure he has some about. Two bottles should do the trick.”

He cried for days. His mother got sicker. He refused to go outside, doing his best to cool down his mother. He brought her food, which she would throw up as soon as it was swallowed.

“Beka, go out for me dear,” she coughed. “This isn’t going to end well.”

He didn’t know what to do. Buying those bottles was buying his mother’s death. He couldn’t do that to her.

But one day, when she was feeling a little better, she was finally able to stand.

“See!” He cried. “You’re getting better.”

“Beka,” She said, holding him close. “Go to the commander. Go sign yourself up. They need young men like you.”

“What?” He said. “No, I’ll stay here.”

“Don’t worry, Beka,” She said, giving him a tired smile. “I feel better. Go already, I’ll be just here.”

He found her on the bed, twitching, and her pulse slow and uneven. She didn’t wake, the two bottles of opium rolling on the floor.

Otabek couldn’t have stayed. He grabbed his things, tears flowing. He had one small pouch, and he stuffed it full with coin. Picking up the vase, he gave it a kiss before placing it beside his mother.

“I’ll fix this,” He said. “I’ll do my best.” He kissed her cheek, still warm with the remnants of life. Mel would find her. Mel would deal with it. Otabek couldn’t. He cried as he left, crying as he clung to himself in the garden.

His mother had told him he was going to be strong. That he would fight his way to the top, that he would defend kings and queens. That had been her wish, no, was her wish. She would be looking at him from the afterlife. Анам would get her wish.

 

*

 

As much as he tried to avoid fighting, it was almost impossible here. Michele had him stuck in a chokehold, pressing his fingers against his neck. He grunted, tossing off his arms, socking him in the chin.

“Fuck,” He spat, rubbing his chin. The grin he had just had was suddenly gone. “You-“

“Leave him alone Michele!” Whined the elf. “Come on, you’ve had enough to drink!”

“Victor, get off me,” he dribbled. “This is friendly!”

Otabek coughed, running his hand over his neck.

“Look, now you’ve hurt him!” Cried Victor.

“I’m fine,” He wheezed. “Just give me a minute.”

“See, Victor, he’s fine!” Said Michele. “Stop being dramatic.”

“Michele, just give him the money.” Sighed Victor, shaking his head. “Please, I’m beginning to get sick of this.”

Michele groaned melodramatically, tossing the coins down on the table. Otabek pocketed them, nodding. “That’s the correct amount.” He said, counting them twice just to be sure.

“See!” Said Victor, grinning. “That wasn’t so hard was it, Michele! I’m so sorry Otabek, he acts like this when he’s had too much to drink. I’m quite sure he will regret this in the morning.” Said Victor, nudging the man.

“It’s not a big deal.” He said. At least Victor wasn’t the one drinking. He was worse, stripping all his clothes off with no care in the world.

“I’m glad!” Said Victor, smiling. “I’ll take him back to his tent.”

Otabek didn’t drink that often, and when he did, he would drink until he passed out. Anything in-between would dig up the memories he didn’t want to be dug up. He would talk about the things he didn’t want to talk about, the words flowing with ease with the alcohol behind them.

There would be a tournament tomorrow. Everyone would be there. Apparently even the king was coming, which was crazy, since the king had never left his castle since his birth. Since the purge of all things magical, would be more accurate. Many of his peers saw this as the opportunity of a life-time. The king was looking for a new royal protector, someone strong that could also be trusted with the life of a royal.

 _This is what you wanted, Mother._ He thought. _To live in the lap of luxury. I didn’t realize at the time that it required becoming a lap dog._ But nothing at this point could have stopped him. Being that close to a king, you would wield some power of your own. He could purge the world of its magical inhabitants. Finally remove everything that had driven his life in this path.

Of course, all the fairies were already dead. They were gone from the world. But there were other forms of magic still in use. It disgusted him. Against nature, all of it. He didn’t voice this opinion. A few of his fellow soldiers possessed magic capabilities. Elves often used magic in their crafting of weapons, binding spells into the metal.

He wouldn’t want to hurt someone like Victor, who had never used his magic. But there should be a cap on it. Something holding it back. It was too dangerous just to keep around. He was lucky that there were no more fairies. Their tactics were deadly. His father had been reduced to mud in seconds, from what he had heard. Crumbled up, they found the dried pieced scattered in the grass.

He wished he could kill the one that had done it. It hadn’t even been in battle. It was an attack in the middle of the night. The only way they had been able to tell it was him was the engraved silver coin he kept in his pocket.

Otabek clenched on his glass. He would have loved to carve open the fairy, gut him like the animal he was.

Damn it, he needed to calm down. If the night went on like this, he wouldn’t be able to make it back to his tent without passing out.

 

*

 

The king was missing an arm.

Otabek’s eyes dropped to the ground as the king left his carriage. He was magnificent, a gold and red cloak, deep rich colors. A trim made of red fur brushed up against his neck as he stepped forward.

Someone rushed towards the king, bowing before removing the king’s cloak. That was when he saw it.

His right arm was completely gone, missing from the shoulder. He shuddered, avoiding his face as he watched. It seemed unnatural, making his skin crawl. No wonder he hadn’t made an appearance out of his castle. The scar was ugly, but shown to the world.

“My king,” he said, voice shaky. “I am honored.” He still avoided his eyes, knees bent.

“And what is thy name?” Said the king.

“Otabek Altin, your highness.”

“Very good,” Spoke the king. He lifted his sword in the air, placing it gently on his shoulders. “Thou have shown great courage. And with great courage, comes great opportunity. I dub thee, lord protector. You will serve us well.” He said stiffly.

And with that, the king climbed back to his carriage. Otabek trailed behind on Delilah, walking towards an unknown future.

 

*

 

Otabek didn’t realize how much time he really did have to himself. For formal appearances, he was always there, sword at the ready. But besides that, he was allowed to wonder around the castle.

The king kept mostly to himself. He was rather charming, although arrogant. He was lively, constantly laughing with the many guests he would entertain. His missing arm wasn’t mentioned at all. How had he lost that arm? Otabek wanted to find out. But no one seemed to really know.

Otabek also kept to himself. He avoided the other royal protectors. They seemed polished and clean, stiff and prone to scowling. There was much to learn in the castle, if you just kept your eyes open.

Like the maid boasted about sleeping with the king. She called him JJ, enthusiastically recounting the time he had taken her to bed. He sincerely doubted her claim. He stood outside the king’s door at night, watching and waiting. There was hardly a chance that the king would sleep with someone from such a low class.

And the teacher that was the only one who ever snapped at the king. The king wouldn’t take it from anyone else, but the teacher didn’t seem to care at all about how the king felt. “I’m here to teach you how to be a good leader, not to suck up to your over inflated ego,” he yelled. The king cringed, backing away. He almost chuckled.

Or the large library tucked away in the far end of the castle, with bookshelves taller than three men. A small woman, a dwarf by the looks of things, sat at a desk. She helped him around pointing to various things.

And one odd thing had recently peeked his interest.

“Is there a section on fae?” he said, leaning over the smaller woman. She raised her eyebrows, spectacles gleaming.

“Yes, there is,” she said. “Why?”

“I’m just interested.” He said. “Where is it?”

She sighed, standing up from her desk. She pointed him towards the section. “It is rather new.” She said wistfully. “The king’s father burned all the other books. These are the restored ones. Do be careful, though, sir. They are rather delicate.”

He reasoned that his interest was mainly due to him wanting to find out more about the enemy he had so desperately been hating all these years. It made sense, trying to learn more about your enemy, right?

But the more he read, the more he found himself empathizing with these mysterious creatures. They didn’t seem so vile, so ugly, so terrifying.

He read through most of the books until he found it. The reason for the whole thing.

It was an old report, stuffed between the pages of diary he had found. It was about a fairy they had hired when the king had been born. There was a growth on the king’s right arm, and this fairy had been called into heal it. His eyes grew wide while he was reading, heart pounding as he scanned the page.

It was a spell. A single spell that had backfired, frying off the arm of the new born, and killing the mother. The late king had murdered the fairy in anger, declaring that all magical beings were a curse to this world.

Why had the king covered this up? The new king didn’t seem that interested in spreading this around either. He made sure to put the books back where they belonged, but stepped away with a new burning in his heart. New questions, that required new answers.

And he wasn’t going to let anything get in his way of finding the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm really not sure about this chapter, so do tell me if you liked it, or if you hated it. To be honest, in my book, any feedback is good feedback!
> 
> You guys have been awesome! Especially fairdeath, seriously. You wrote a damn essay!
> 
> See you all next chapter!


	7. Here come real stars to fill the upper skies. And here on earth come emulating flies, that though they never equal stars in size, (And they were never really stars at heart)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek talks more about his past, and Yuri talks more about certain aspects of his culture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Late again, but I've just finished my 30000 words long fic called Inconvenience. It really has been a wild ride, but luckily, I was able to finish this chapter I hope you enjoy!

He was filled with a new sort of determination. The fire had stopped burning for the destruction of all things magical, and had now turned to a flame for the truth.

Not that he didn’t still fear magic. Since he was a child, he had always feared that unnatural force. This unknown power, passed from generation to generation, able to touch the world in ways he could never dream of. To be able to rearrange the world to your will. To turn people to dust with a touch.

He kept closer to the one-armed King these days. After many grueling tournaments, he stayed right by the King, standing at his left side. King Leroy would hold meetings with other kings, from other lands, important people that needed to be impressed. Otabek bowed, the graceful figures passing like shadows over him.

“Who?” Said a delicate sounding voice. Was that a man, or a woman? He couldn’t tell, the voice was a blur of both.

“Otabek,” Said the grinning King. “He is my guard. Don’t worry, I trust him with my life.” Otabek bowed again, arms behind him.

When he looked up, he saw.

A man (he assumed, it was fairly difficult to tell with elves), fair skin with rose gold hair that brushed the marble. The tall man shifted, his angular face twisting into a frown. Otabek could see how his ears twisted up into a point. Even in this warm weather, he had a copper and cyan coat hugging his thin shoulders and waist.

Otabek had never seen a man like him. There were not many elves in his city, but none had the sharp features and the height of this person. Victor’s ears couldn’t have been so sharp, his body so long, his skin so pale.

The King offered out his hand, and the other shook it.

Once the tea had been brought in, and the doors had been shut and locked, and the two had exchanged their typical words, the elf took out a letter.

“I’m sure that you understand the dangers.”

“Of course,” He said, flashing that same smug smile as he opened a letter. But it didn’t take long for that mask to fall.

“I did everything I could, your majesty.” Said the elf. His face was the zenith of calm, but his pinky quivered against the table. He was _scared_ , realized Otabek. That same feeling of disgust, that automatic reflex against what he had sworn was evil. Elves had magic.

He stuffed the emotion down. It was a reflex. It was inherently evil, he had seen for himself.

The King read the letter, reading it twice.

“Is this a threat?” Otabek’s fingers twitched in the direction of his sword

“My King doesn’t make such orders without reason.” Said the man.

“They can’t blame me for the actions of my father.” Said the King. Otabek’s heart quickened.

“They are.” Said the man, placing his shaky hands in his lap. A bead of sweat dampened the collar of his blue coat.

“How can I be held responsible for something that happened when I was a child?” He asked.

“How can one person be responsible for that actions of another?” said the man. “You are not to blame for that. But someone must take the punishment.”

“Elrai,” he said, placing the letter gently on the table. “I will not allow my kingdom to go through another war.”

“Then you must do as they say.” Said the Elf, raising his chin. “My King is reasonable.” There was an implication there, hidden beneath his words.

“Please, mind your tone.” Said Otabek, looking up. The King to his right looked smug. Elrai’s eyes shone, bright blue. Underneath the stoic expression, something strong was brewing.

“As you say,” he said, closing his eyes. “But I suggest, your majesty, that you comply. Rebuild your conservatories. Encourage magic users to master their skills. End the ban on fairies in your kingdom.”

“There are no fae left.” Said the King.

“It will be a symbolic gesture.” Said the Elf. “King Alain didn’t… encourage good relations between our nations. Now is the time we reform our bonds.”

The King stood up.

“You may leave. I thank you for the report. Expect my answer tomorrow.”

The elf bowed, pulling his coat on. “Thank you for your time, your majesty.”

And with that, he left. The King sighed, frowning. He ordered some more tea, sitting and staring out at the large hall. When he was done, Otabek escorted him to his room.

“Go to the library,” he said. “Tell the dwarf to fetch my father’s journals.” Otabek nodded.

He couldn’t wait until his shift was over. The moment he left, he almost ran to his room. He dug under his pillow, pulling out a journal of his own.

 

_It’s been three weeks since I have moved here, and they’ve been mostly accepting of me. The children stare, but what can you expect when they have never seen a human before? I’ve even had a couple trying to crawl under my shirt to see what I have underneath there if not wings! The adults can be seen from time to time flickering to look at back. I don’t mind. Perhaps this can be a learning experience for both of us._

_Everything here is small. When Haren brought me into the town, she was larger, human sized. I didn’t expect everyone to be so small. Small houses in the willow trees, made of vine and flowers. It is all so fascinating to me that I feel my own pulse quickening as I write this now! I will have to draw a diagram later._

_My accommodation isn’t exactly delightful. I am grateful to all gods that it is warm here, so I don’t have to deal with rain that often. Warding spells drive off most bugs, and I have a small tent to sleep in. Of course, it isn’t comfortable, but I didn’t come here for comfort._

_They don’t seem to be intimidated by me, quietly sitting on my shoulders as I write in this journal, or braiding my hair into various intricate patterns. I haven’t stopped them. I hesitate to say this, as it may seem rude, but they are far more emotionally driven beings. Mard’s face when I gagged on her daffodil soup could have made the Bishop curse._

_Sometimes, while I write, one will come very close to my face and begin to poke. They have so sense of personal space, and I’ve woken many a time to various fairies sitting on my body. I’m certainly not bothered by it, I don’t want to give off that impression. I’ve heard from various sources, as well as my trusty volume of Magical Creatures No.3 that they are very social, and require physical contact in order to remain stable._

_I’m not sure how true that could be, but it appears to be true. They’ve been growing on me, I can tell._

_I want to talk to the elders. They will have the information I need. I could ask anyone in this village for the information that I need, but I fear that it would be inappropriate. It’s quite rude to ask of certain bodily functions in human society, and it is highly likely that it would be even more offensive here._

_However, I hope that they can realize that I am just as inquisitive, if not more, about their culture, traditions, languages, and lives._

_My Fae is improving immensely. Haren is the only one that can speak to me, and she has been teaching me every day for hours. I have no idea what I could do to make it up to her. They have such strange traditions here. I don’t know how I can repay her according to her customs._

_Every morning, they all come out to the sun, spreading their wings out wide. They will lay in the sun for an hour before continuing with their various jobs. I’ve wanted to ask, but they all are so peaceful at that time of day._

_Haren is brilliant. She has taught me much of her world. I will admit, I have feelings for her. She is beautiful and elegant, and smarter than I will ever be. It would interfere with my work for the academy, and it would only end in pain for me. But never have I seen a human woman with such warmth, delighting in the mysteries of the universe._

_I will continue my work. In the end, my report goes to the academy, but I will be able to keep this journal. I would like to fill it with my memories, so that even when I am away, I can always remember what it was like here._

Otabek turned the page, careful around the edges. They were delicate. This journal was the reason he knew of everything he did. If the report hadn’t been pressed between these lifesaving pages, then he would never have known the truth. The reality of that never failed to unnerve him. He turned the next page, squinting. It was getting late, but he continued over to the next line.

_I’ve been very busy, and I will publish what I learned in my report. But I will put one thing here._

_Haren is amazing. I don’t know why I was ever scared of this. I shouldn’t have been scared, but there were just so many differences between us that I never thought it would work._

_Let me just say that I am satisfied with what I know now of fae bodily functions._

_I would love to write more, but Haren can read my language, and I’m sure I wouldn’t forget this anyway._

_I will just write this, for future reference._

_Wings. The wings are the key. I wouldn’t have guessed it, and it was a bit strange to begin with, but I suppose it’s fitting. Her wings are beautiful, delicate. They glow when she’s pleased, and move very expressively._

_I don’t want to leave. I will see if I can extend my stay here. Hopefully, the academy will be lenient._

Wings are the key? What did that mean?

And the bodily functions… oh.

He felt his face heat up. He could definitely guess what that had meant. And wings were the key? He blinked. Did that mean what he thought that meant? He wanted to read on, but it was far too difficult to read.

Wings, he thought, placing the journal careful under his pillow. _What did they look like_? He thought, closing his eyes. _Wings are the key…_

 

*

 

Yuri listened quietly while he spoke, talking occasionally when he found something strange.

“Your town didn’t have a healer?” he said.

“No, all magic was banned,” he said, giving Yuri a funny look. “Of course we didn’t have a healer. We had a herbalist.”

Yuri cracked up laughing, the edge of his wings lighting up.

“What?” He asked.

“Most of that stuff is superstition!” he said once he had stopped rolling on the floor, slapping his knee as he laughed. “Very few of those things actually have a true basis in reality.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ve had human ‘medicine’ before.” He said, making a face.

Yuri went quiet as he explained his family. How his father had come home in a pot, how he had found out. Yuri sat, chewing on his lip. His eyes widened with the realization. His fingers trembled.

“I didn’t realize.” He said, voice quiet, light. Almost a whisper.

“You couldn’t have known, Yuri.” Sighed Otabek. “You couldn’t possibly have known.”

Yuri looked up. “That’s why you were scared.” He said, fingers trembling. “That’s why you looked so frightened when I did that. To the grass.”

Had he really been that obvious?

“Maybe I was a little scared.” He admitted, regretting it as soon as he saw a flash of pain in Yuri’s eyes.

“Do I-“ he said, stuttering. Yuri looked away, gulping. “Do I… scare you?” The last two words were gentle, softly whispered. As if Yuri was afraid of hurting him.

“No, Yuri.” He said, pulling the trembling fairy into a hug. “You’re so strong, but I’m not scared of you.” The vine dug into his skin. He closed his eyes, holding him tight. He focused on the feeling of warmth from the fire, and the hard floor beneath him. Otabek couldn’t think of anything else.

“Yuri did you just…?”

“No.” He said, the vine in his chest relaxing.

“Yuri.”

“Fine.” He huffed. “But I didn’t read your mind.”

“Yuri,” Otabek sighed, pulling away, but still rested his hands on Yuri’s shoulders. Now the fairy was completely avoiding his gaze.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t lying to me.” Said Yuri. “I just did it for a second.”

“Have I given you a single reason to doubt me so far?” He asked. Yuri shook his head. “So please, trust me.”

“I couldn’t bear it if you were scared of me, Otabek.” Said Yuri, closing his eyes.

“I’m not scared.” He said. “But don’t do that again. Even if it’s just for a second, don’t do it.” If Yuri even caught a fraction of what he thought about in Yuri’s company, it would all fall to pieces.

“Okay.”

“Promise you won’t do it again.”

The fairy grit his teeth, but then relaxed. “I won’t do it again.” He said, like the words required effort to say.

Otabek continued his story, but was a little more cautious. He didn’t entirely trust Yuri’s promise, so he tried to keep his thoughts on topic.

“So… you pretty much trained your whole life to kill fairies, huh?”

“I don’t believe any of that stuff anymore.”

“I know… it’s just a little weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“You’re not a very angry person. You act far too mellow sometimes.”

“I act mellow?”

“You’re so fucking mellow.”

“I wasn’t, back then.” He said, frowning. Looking at Yuri now, he couldn’t fathom holding such hatred in his heart.

“I really can’t see it.” Said Yuri.

“You’re not bothered by it?” He asked. He always felt bad when this subject was brought up.

“I think…” he said, biting his bottom lip. “I am? A little. But your father…” he said trailing off. “It makes sense that you wouldn’t like us too much. And it’s not as if I haven’t felt the same.”

“You wanted to kill humans?”

“I wanted to make it so that the world never knew that humans had ever existed.” Said Yuri grimly. “But I don’t. Not anymore. When my mother left me here, she left me with a human.”

“You were raised by a human?”

Yuri nodded.

“His name was Nikolai. He was a scholar, from one of the big academies in the city. But I called him grandpa.” Yuri let out a small snicker, before frowning again. “All the books in my room are from him. He wrote a lot. I didn’t have anyone to teach me about my culture, so he did.” His bottom lip shuddered, so he bit it. His eyes became glassy. “I couldn’t hate humans after that. After all he did for me. But most of you seem terrible.”

“Am I terrible?”

“You’re terrible at gardening.”

“That’s fair.” He always pulled the plant up without the root attached, meaning they would have to dig up everything again.

“I think your decent, Otabek.”

Otabek’s face flushed immediately, unsure whether he had heard the words correctly.

“What?”

“You heard me,” mumbled Yuri. “Now get on with your goddamn story!”

Otabek conveniently skipped over the battles that he had. Yuri knew enough violence already. Instead, he told him about the elf, Victor.

“I thought you wanted to remove all magical things,” Said Yuri. “What the fuck? Elves have magic.”

“Yes… but to different degrees.” He said. “You are on a far higher scale than him. And he had to work very hard to get in. The only reason he wasn’t put in jail after the war started was because he was half human.”

Yuri gaped. “Humans and Elves can breed?”

Otabek nodded. “Sure, we are close enough in lineage.”

“Can Fairies and Humans breed?” Heat rushed to his face. Where had that question come from?

“I- I don’t know.” He said.

“I’ll have a look in his books later.” Said Yuri, thinking for a moment. Then he looked at Otabek, and laughed.

Laughed!

“What?”

“Why are you blushing?” he asked, chortling.

“That… ‘subject’ is rather sensitive,” he said. He was probably red up to his ears by now.

“Why?” Asked Yuri. “It’s just sex.”

Otabek had to cover his face, which only made Yuri laugh even harder. “Don’t you have shame?”

“About what?”

“That.”

“Why would I be ashamed of sex?” Yuri said, sounding very confused now.

“Don’t fairies have… procedures? When it comes to talking about that stuff?”

“No?”

“I-“ A hand came and pressed against his head. He flinched back, and Yuri glared.

“Are you overheating?

“No…” he said.

“Your face is very red. Are you getting sick?”

“I’m embarrassed.” He said, caving in. “Humans… we don’t talk about that stuff. In certain company.” Certainly not in this company.

“I don’t understand why you’re embarrassed,” Said Yuri, pulling away his hand. “What’s embarrassing about talking about sex?”

“That’s just how it is.”

“Come on, I’ve seen people selling their bodies in town.” Said Yuri, tilting his head. “That’s bullshit!”

“In some situations… for some people, it’s not embarrassing.”

“Your race literally has houses where you can pay someone to have sex with you.”

“That’s different.”

“So humans can pay to have sex with a complete stranger, but they can’t talk about it?” Yuri shook his head. “What’s the point in that?”

“It’s just what people do. Why? Do fairies talk about that stuff?”

“We certainly don’t have sex with people that we don’t know.” Said Yuri, chuckling. “That’s just completely strange to me.”

“Not everyone does that.”

“Have you done it?”

“No, Yuri, I have not.” He said, sighing.

“Really? They are very common.” Yuri frowned. “But I could never do it with a stranger.”

“What do…” he couldn’t believe he was asking this. “How…?”

“Only with friends, or someone I lo- liked.” Said Yuri. “That’s apparently very common.”

“With friends?” he said, heart beating a little bit faster.

“You wouldn’t have sex with a friend?”

Otabek shook his head vigorously. “No, no, in Human culture that would be very strange.”

“So… let me get this straight.” He said, laughing. “You’ll have sex with a stranger, but not with a friend?”

“Not with a friend, no,” he said, now completely mortified.

“Wow,” said Yuri, eyes going wide. “That is pretty weird. Why?”

Otabek sighed. “It’s not… romantic love. It’s platonic.”

“Why don’t you have platonic sex then?” Asked Yuri.

“That’s weird.”

“Why is that weird?”

“It’s just weird.”

“No, you’re weird.” Said Yuri.

“Fae culture doesn’t associate sex with romantic love then?”

“Sex is sex. Why does it matter if it’s platonic or romantic?” Said Yuri. “And it’s fun. Why wouldn’t you want to do that with a friend?” Otabek shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry Yuri.” He said. “But that still is very strange to me.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Okay, enough. Continue, strange human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peeps! Hoped you liked it, comment if you want more, and drop a kudos if you feel so inclined!  
> This chapter had a lot of world building in it, which I hope you enjoyed (because world building isn't really my strength). 
> 
> Also, my keyboard keeps correcting Fae to face, which can make for some very funny sentences sometimes!  
> Thanks for reading!


	8. I only hope that when I am free, as they are free to go in quest. Of the knowledge beyond the bounds of life, it may not seem better to me to rest.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally crack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! More angst awaits, so I hope you'll enjoy that! But don't worry. The next few chapters after this will be happy fluff!

“So, Fae are not specifically banned in Kazakhstan, but everyone believes that you’re all gone.” He said. “It would be a crime to kill you, but I doubt that would stop anyone if you actually turned up. My generation hasn’t even seen a fairy before. It wouldn’t be safe.”

“But there are academies now? For humans with magic?” Otabek nodded.

“Yes. But it’s still highly stigmatized for any other group to possess magic. Elves need a pass to even enter the city. Half humans have a hard time fitting in.”

“Human cities sound like shit.” He said. “With all your dumbass laws.”

“Fairies don’t have cities, do they?” he asked. Yuri shook his head.

“No, I don’t think so. Grouping together would probably make it harder to roam out.” Yuri shivered, pulling his own blanket tighter over his shoulders. “Sometimes I just want to leave this place. Just to go out and never come back.”

“Where would you go?” He asked.

“Somewhere warm.” Said Yuri. “Where the sun shone all day, and it was hot enough that my wings wouldn’t go stiff.” He flicked the edge of his wing, and it sounded like parchment.

“Stiff?” He asked, eyes trained on his wings now, peeking out from the blankets at his shoulders.

“Yeah, they get stiff in the winter. Something about blood flow.” Yuri sighed. “They always get really heavy in winter. It’s a pain.”

“Right,” Said Otabek, watching Yuri rub the edge of his wing.

_Wings are the key…_

He continued with his story, skipping the part about the journal. Yuri might find it a little strange if he knew so much about fairies. Yuri already knew too much about that part of his life.

“Doesn’t sound like it worked,” Said Yuri.

“What?”

“The negotiation.”

“Well,” He said. “We aren’t specifically fighting elves either. Just an offshoot that opposes the actions of the previous King.”

It took a moment for him to process it. Something he hadn’t realized before. Something he had barely even thought about, the devotion to his King having prevented him from questioning it before. But once the words had been spoken, he realized what had been right there in front of him the whole time.

But now, he finally thought. Those bodies he had slammed his sword into, the screams on dying breaths, they were all against the thing he himself had hated. Otabek had never liked fighting, it was just something he was good at. The enemy had attacked them first, misguided and wild.

His King had repaired what he could. He had built the schools, repaired the libraries, but it hadn’t been enough to satisfy these people. Nobody had really payed up for all the pain and all the death that had happened those years ago. Nobody had taken responsibility. And his King had taken the fall.

So of course he had to fight for his country. Of course he would be sent out there, and would be put to the sword himself if he had disobeyed. All those bodies. All those screams. All that blood on his hands.

Shit. Shit. He watched as the fairy’s body seized up. He had realized it as well.

Yuri’s eyes squinted. “So... you’re fighting the people opposed to the killing of my people.” His heart pulled up, beating franticly in his chest.

“Yuri-“

“Didn’t you think?” He asked, voice tightening. “Didn’t you think? I thought you studied fae, I thought you said you found that your people were in the wrong.” Something cold, inexplicably setting his nerves aflame.

“They attacked us first, we had-“

“Stop talking!” Screamed the fairy. “Are you fucking stupid? Why didn’t you tell me this before?” His chest was heaving. “Were you hiding this from me?” The hurt in his voice made Otabek wince.

“I wouldn’t do that, Yuri!” he said, standing up. It only made the fairy curl in on himself more.

“How am I supposed to know that you’re not lying?” He said, face twisting, angular and cruel.

“I didn’t realize-“

“How the fuck can’t you realize that?!” Cried Yuri, eyes burning into his skin.

“It’s more complicated than you think!”

“You were killing the people who supported us! How the FUCK is that complicated?!” Immeasurable guilt began to flood him, and the anger and pain that shook Yuri’s body only made it worse.

“My King didn’t want this! It was his father, I would have been killed if I had disobeyed him! If I had known any better, I wouldn’t have done it. But how on earth was I supposed to know that at the time? I regret it more than anything now, but I promise, Yuri, that I am sorry!” He leaned forward, brushing a stand of loose hair back from Yuri’s face. “Please, I would-“

“Get out, human.” Said the fairy. He grit his teeth, bearing down on him. This lanky, long limbed fairy looking upon him as if he were filth. His heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to crack. “Get out of my house!”

“Don’t-“

“GET OUT!” Bawled Yuri, pushing him hard. Otabek wanted to pull him against him, tight enough to stop the shaking, but there was nothing he could do. Tears dripped down his cheeks, Yuri’s eyes glowing bright green. The vine began to burn like fire in his chest, and he clutched his side, his eyes pricking with his own tears.

“Yuri!” He said, a rush of cold wind from outside hitting him in the back. “Yuri, let me explain,” Yuri shoved him again, and tears clouded his vision, the lanky figure swimming before him.

“NO!” Said Yuri, pushing against him. “Get out before I hurt you!” He said, sobbing. The vine felt like it was eating away at his insides, and his legs shook with pain. Otabek backed out, legs hitting the grass.

Yuri stood at the doorway, wings vibrating in anger. It was as if his face had changed in an instant, twisting into angular lines, eyes thinning into the eyes of a cat. Strange script traveled down his forearms, making his fingers spasm, black ink collecting at the tips. Green light crackled in his palms.

So Otabek shut his eyes, still holding his burning side. He didn’t want to remember this. If he was going to die here, then that wasn’t the Yuri he wanted to remember. He wanted to remember the smiles, the soft laughter, the gentle twist of words as Yuri sang into the breeze. The soft look in his eyes when he thought of something good, and the sleepy yawns he gave in the morning. Bright green wings when he stretched out in the morning.

Spasms of pain echoed through his body, and he held it tighter. “Please,” he begged, not knowing what exactly he was begging for. To be spared? He would leave if that is what Yuri wanted. To be killed? He certainly deserved it at this point. “Please,” he sobbed again, pulling his legs into his chest.

All those bodies…

All those screams...

All that blood…

The door shut in front of him, leaving him out in the cold. A sob built up inside him, tears burning his cheeks. He cried, half at the vine that seared within him, and half at the anger and pain in Yuri’s voice.

The rebels, he thought. He had no choice but to stab and cut his way out. The King had tried. The rebels had attacked. He had fought.

He cried, curled up in the grass. The fire inside the house went out, leaving him with nothing but the stars and the moon for light.

He coughed, the pain making him feel ill, the guilt making him want to vomit. Otabek was eventually able to stand, his legs wobbly.

“Delilah?” He called out roughly. At the base of a willow tree, the head of his horse lifted. He made his way to her, leaning against her warm body.

He didn’t want to think, not right now. The cold fall air blew against his legs, and he pulled in closer. Eventually, however many hours later, the pain died down to a soft buzz. It still hurt, but it was a hell of a lot better than the awful chewing sensation of before. It felt like a rough pinch.

He didn’t want to think. Otabek close his eyes. He didn’t want to think.

 

*

 

_He felt it. Warm and gentle against his thigh. A finger resting against his lips as he opened his eyes wide._

_Yuri sat in front of him, leaning on his chest. There was something sad in his eyes._

_“Are you okay?” He asked, knowing fully well the answer._

_“What do you think, my Beka?” Said the fairy. “You can’t hide something like that forever. Idiot Beka.”_

_“I’m sorry,”_

_“I know,” Said Yuri, closing his eyes. “I can feel it. I know how bad you feel. I can hear it in my head.”_

_“You can?”_

_“Obviously,” He said, wiggling his fingers. “Magic.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_Those fingers than rested on his thigh tightened, sending pain through him. “If you’re sorry,” said Yuri. “Then stop feeling fucking sorry. It’s not your fault, Beka.”_

_“It is my fault.”_

_“It really isn’t.” Said Yuri, leaning down to kiss him. His heart leapt, and Yuri pulled away. “You are such a fucking coward.”_

_“Like you don’t get scared.”_

_“I get scared of real shit.”_

_“Hmm,” Said Otabek. The fairy above him, as light as a feather, poked him right above his chest. There was no vine, he noticed. It was gone, not even a scar._

_“Sometimes, Beka.” said Yuri. “I wish that I had just left you out there to die. Then you wouldn’t be such a burden on me.”_

_“You don’t wish that.”_

_“I wish I wished it,” Said Yuri. “It would make it a lot easier to do this, my Beka.”_

_In a second, he was dunked in the water. Strong hands held him under as he kicked above him. He screamed, water flowing into his lungs. The hands disappeared, but now he was surrounded by walls, still drowning, eyes burning in the salty water._

_Then in a moment, he was surrounded in warmth._

_“You’re not going to die, Otabek.” Said Yuri. But that was a lie! His lungs were full of water, his limbs tired without air, the pounding in his head reminding him, **I’m going to die, I’m going to DIE!**_

_“Breath it in, dumbass.”_

**_I can’t!_ **

_“Breath, seriously, stop being a baby.”_

**_I’m going to drown!_ **

_“You’re not going to drown,” Hands held him tightly, pulling open his mouth. “Can’t you trust me?”_

**_It’s going to kill me!_ **

_“It’s just a dream. This isn’t the real world.”_

**_I can’t believe that!_ **

_Fingers shoved into his mouth, right to the back of his throat, warm ocean water filling his lungs completely. The last thing he registered was shock. “There,” said the voice, fading further as he sank into the dark. “Was that so hard?”_

 

*

 

He awoke, coughing. He needed to hack it up, all the water in his lungs. Otabek’s chest felt like it was on fire. The fingers being shoved into his mouth, that warm water. It needed to go. He retched, but there was nothing there. A hand touched his back as he heaved into the grass.

“Just breath, you’re fine,” Said Yuri. “You’re not drowning. It was a dream.” His voice was soothing, cool ice against his burn.

“Yuri?” He said, eyes widening. “Yuri, I-“

“Not now.” Said Yuri. “Later.” He left, coming back with the food from last night. Rabbit and potato broth, warmed again. They ate in silence. Otabek could barely look up at him. So he looked around him.

There were birds. This had been the first warm day in a while. There were bug bites all along his skin. Delilah ate grass near the cabin, chewing, and an exasperated look on her face. The grass brushed his skin. Bark dug into his back, keeping him alert when all he wanted to do was sink away.

He sighed, breath coming out in a tremble.

“Yuri,” he said, looking up. “I want to explain.”

Yuri nodded. “Okay.”

So he did. He explained how his King had complied with the elves, had built everything up again. He had done his best to remove the stigma people felt towards magic. How the Elven kings had an alliance with him, just as they had before. How the rebel group had come out of nowhere, killing the growing relationship between the two kingdoms. How the whole thing had been misguided, and now there was only more anger towards magical creature.

How if he hadn’t fought, it would be his head that would roll.

“That’s it,” he finished. “I understand if you don’t want me around.”

“I want you around.” Said the fairy.

“I can leave.”

“Don’t leave,” sighed the fairy, shaking his head. “Ugh, stop being such a self-sacrificing dumbass! Can we… make a deal?”

A deal?

“Yes,” he said, unsure.

“Can we both agree not to blame ourselves or each other for the actions of other people?” He said. It sounded rehearsed. He had been thinking of this all night. “Because I don’t want to blame you for what your race did, or what your king made you do.” Yuri bit his lip. “I don’t want you to blame me for your father. That shit was done by other people, with no connection to us.”

“I’m still-“

“Stop saying fucking sorry.” Said Yuri, glaring at him. “Say it if you did something wrong.”

“I’m-“

“If you say sorry, I’m going to leave.” Yuri couldn’t leave now. Otabek wanted more than anything to hold him closer.

“Okay.” He said, conceding.

“We’ll stop blaming each other for what other people did, okay?”

“Okay.” Said Otabek.

“I…” said Yuri, and now he was shaking. “I don’t want you to leave. I never want you to leave again.”

“I’m not going to leave.”

“Okay.” He said. He finished his meal, looking up to Otabek occasionally. “I… kinda invaded your dreams. Sorry, about that.”

Otabek shook his head. “No, you pulled me out of it. It wasn’t a very nice dream.”

“Still, I broke that rule.” Said Yuri. “I shouldn’t have gone into your mind.”

“Yuri, you helped me.” And he couldn’t help running a hand through Yuri’s hair, gently. It made him jump at the contact, but Yuri didn’t seem to mind.

“Still.”

“How about we make another deal?” Said Otabek.

“Sure,”

“If we feel like we’ve done something wrong, or stepped over a line, we talk about it.” He said. “I don’t want you to bottle up emotions.”

“Same goes for you.” Huffed Yuri.

“Of course.”

“Then deal.” Said Yuri.

“Good.” Said Otabek. He sighed, leaning against the tree. “I hate fighting.”

“You’re a knight.” Said Yuri, smirking.

“Was.” Said Otabek. “I’m not going to fight for the pleasure of Kings and Queens anymore. I can’t do it.”

“I was waiting for you to say something like that.”

“You were?”

Yuri nodded. “So, you’re not going to leave?”

“Where would I go?” He said. “And it’s nice here.” They both stared out at the ocean, at the waves gently lapping against the shore. There was no white as they rolled up to the sand. It was a soft movement. The wind had died down over the night. “I thought I already told you that.”

“Just checking,” said Yuri, eyes shining. Then he leaned forward, holding Otabek tightly. He was light, barely more than air, but warm like the ocean. A wave of warmth over his tired bones.

Otabek wrapped his arms around him, burying his head in Yuri’s shoulder. Honey, pear, and peppermint. This time, not clouding his mind, but clarifying it.

“Are you sniffing my shoulder?”

“No.” He said.

“You’re weird.”

“I wasn’t sniffing your shoulder.” He insisted.

“Then what were you doing?”

“Breathing.” He said. “Don’t fairies need to breathe?”

“Yes, dumbass. Then stop being so loud with it.”

“Fine,” he said, smiling a little.

For the rest of the day, they took it easy. They organized the cabin a little, sweeping out the ashes. They drank the rest of the alcohol Yuri had kept over the years as they watched the sun climb higher into the sky. Passing the bottle between the two of them, he felt a warm fuzziness creep again into his bones.

When they finally climbed back into bed, Yuri nestled against him.

“Yuri?” He asked, staring at the lanky blond in his arms.

“Let’s just sleep.” He mumbled.

“Sure.” Otabek said, closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this, even if it was a bit hard at times! I'd love your feedback, you've all been really great!
> 
> See you all next chapter!


	9. Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all.  Behind low boughs the trees let down outside, and the sweet pang it cost me not to call.  And tell you that I saw does still abide.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek and Yuri discover something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll see what happens. If you want to have a guess to what comes next, have a listen to Zankyou no Terror "Von". Maybe play it while reading, especially when it gets to the part at the end. You'll know what I mean when you get to it.

After their fight, and their subsequent deals, things settled down. A lot.

In the late fall, with the yellow and orange leaves all over the meadow like large rugs, they settled beneath the large blanket on the bed. Yuri curled up under Otabek’s arms, pushing him to the edge of the bed, where the wall met the side.

This was one of the best parts about living here. No early mornings. No screeching horns, no yelling soldiers. Just the quiet mellow hum of the birds and trees, soft light that pulled him gently into the waking world.

And Yuri.

He was even clingier than before. There was barely a moment when they were together when they weren’t touching in some form. Otabek definitely felt a little weird about it. He was probably getting more out of it than Yuri was, and that left him with an odd sense of guilt. Something between a drive to just live in the moment, and a twist of shame that wormed its way into his stomach. Fae were social by nature, but it was a little distracting when Yuri would throw his arms over his shoulders, or spend time poking at his hair.

“What are you doing?” He asked, turning around. Yuri scowled.

“Your hair is getting too long.” Said Yuri. His fingers trailed down, and he leaned in closer. “Your hair is very thick.”

“Oh,” he said, raising an eyebrow at him. He was always so inquisitive. “I didn’t notice.”

“Do you want me to cut it for you?” Asked Yuri. “Then it can stay out of your eyes.”

“Sure.” He said. He honestly had never really cared about the way it looked.

But this? This looked shit. All the pieces at strange angles, a large chunk missing from the side where Yuri had accidently cut it.

“Yuri, this…” he said, touching a bald spot that Yuri had created. “This looks terrible.”

“At least it’s out of your eyes. And I never said I was good.” Yuri said, chucking the scissors back in the draw. “I tried.”

“You really didn’t.” He said, wincing at the strange clump near his ear. “Yuri, I don’t think you should cut my hair next time.”

“You really don’t look that bad.”

“It looks like you’ve tried to scalp me.”

“Who cares how you look?” Said Yuri, shrugging.

“It’s not of great importance to me, but that doesn’t mean I want to look like… this.” Said Otabek.

Next time, he’d cut it himself. This was a mess.

As the cold bore on with no sign of stopping, they would sleep in until late in the day. Yuri wouldn’t get up until lunch. He’d mope around the house, making strange concoctions over the fire. The smoke was enough to make him gag. And Yuri would, most of the time, throw out whatever he had made anyway.

“What are you trying to make?” Because clearly, none of his previous attempts had been success.

“It’s not specific,” said Yuri, stirring vigorously as black smoke streamed out. It gathered at the windows, crowding around the door, almost as if it were trying to escape. “Don’t breathe it in, I don’t know if it’s going to fuck you up or not!”

Otabek covered his mouth, heading for the door. As soon as it was open, all the black smoke rushed out all at once, leaving the room clear. Otabek released a breath, taking in the now clean air.

“Why are you doing this? You keep throwing it out.”

“I’m just trying to make some ointment thing. It’s not important.”

“Ointment for what?” he asked.

“My wings,” Said Yuri, nose scrunching. “They might dry up over the winter. And crack,” he said, shivering. The left wing twitched, quivering ever so slightly. “It’s not that serious,” Said Yuri, watching Otabek out of the corner of his eye. “It just really hurts, and then I have to bind it together for a bit, which really fucking hurts. And then it’s a whole other process for me to fly again, and it’s completely avoidable to begin with.”

“Do you need anything for it?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Said Yuri.

“Alright then,” he said, stepping outside. Yuri came out a while later, and dumped the potion at the base of the tree.

“This is really starting to piss me off!” He said, growling. Yuri twitched when Otabek placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t work yourself up over this.” Said Otabek. “Maybe it’ll be better to work on it when you’re not stressed out about it?”

Yuri sighed, leaning back into Otabek. “Sure,” he said. “Whatever.”

Yuri didn’t fight back as much. Of course, Otabek was hardly the one to fight back either, but he was witness to the many arguments Yuri had with everyday objects. Yelling in the bath if the water was too hot, cussing when he bumped his wings on the stairs, or angrily tugging on the curtains to “Stay fucking closed so I can get some fucking sleep!” But as the fall slowly drifted to winter, he seemed to mellow out.

Yuri slept even later, only opening his eyes well into the afternoon.

“I’m fine,” he said when asked by a worried Otabek. “It’s just the fucking sun. Not enough light and shit…” Sighed Yuri, snuggling into the pillow. It didn’t stop Otabek from worrying about him. It was concerning to see him barely able to open his eyes after more than half a day’s worth of sleep.

  1. **Yuri gets tired easily in the winter.**



Not that they had much to do anyway. Maintaining the garden. Rare trips to town. It was all very still and very quiet.

Otabek finally realized it with a start. He had been there for half a year! How had time gone by so fast?

One of the questions that ate at him the most, however, was the one about his soldiers. Were they still alive? The war was well on its way, as more and more refugees came through the towns. What about Victor, and Michele, and Chris?

There was hardly any point in thinking about that. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t possibly go back now. He didn’t want to go back now.

“Hey, Otabek?” asked Yuri, peeking out from the doorway. “Are you coming? I’m going to bed,”

“Just a moment,” he said, staring out over the water, before closing the door behind him.

 

*

 

The first thing he notices is the smell. Or, more accurately, the lack of it. It was always there in some form or another around Yuri, the scent of pear and peppermint, but it was strongest when they were here. Curled around each other in bed.

But the scent? Why was it so weak? He pulled in a heavy breath though his nose, frowning.

The second thing he noticed was that the blankets were still on him. The third was the empty space beside him where Yuri had been just a moment ago. Otabek pulled himself up, running a hand over the other side of the bed.

Still warm.

“Yuri?” he called out. Nothing. The darkness seemed to mute his sound, sucking in his voice.

He must have left only a few minutes ago. It was dark, nothing but the faint light of the moon to guide him as he climbed out of bed and walked down the stairs. Immediately, he felt a chill run down his back. Yuri never left at night. In all the time he had been there, this hadn’t happened. Yuri wouldn’t get up until there was some light in the sky.

Otabek bit his lip. There was no point in allowing his heart to race. He squinted, looking around the room for his sword. He felt his fingers touch the hilt, and Otabek pulled it out. The moon glinted off the blade. Steadily, he slid it into his belt.

Perhaps it was an overreaction, he thought, shivering. Perhaps this was all just him being paranoid. But everything seemed highly suspicious. On the battle field, it didn’t matter if you were the best soldier in the world. If you were unprepared, you were punished with a sword to the throat. If your instincts were off, you could end up on the wrong end of a spear.

He opened the door, and his breath left him.

Snow. All the warmth in the room disappeared, the cold curling in. Otabek bristled. Something definitely was off. He shrugged on a coat, pulling it tight over his shoulders. Lighting the small lantern, he stepped outside.

“Yuri?” he shouted into the darkness. Nothing.

The snow wasn’t deep, but the cold climbed up his legs, soaking into his skin. It coated the ground like an icy blanket. There had never been snow where he had grown up. Otabek stared out into the night, hesitant to step forward. He clutched the lantern, prickles of fear seeding into him. The moon looked back down at him, its thin curve like a cruel smile. An owl called from the trees, waiting for his next meal. Something in the trees crunched, a cackle.

No.

Focus on Yuri.

He took a deep breath, allowing a moment for him to compose himself. Yuri was stronger than him, as much as he often forgot. Those hands could kill a thousand men, crackling with green light. Nothing could hurt him. It would be fine.

Otabek lifted the lantern over the ground, scanning for foot prints. He could only hope they were still there. This snow looked new.

 _Ah,_ there. They circled around to the back of the house, small footprints, a little longer than Otabek’s. He made certain not to step on them.

They lead back around to the beach. Otabek pressed forward, ignoring the gnawing in his stomach. He reached up a hand, trailing the vine with his fingers. It wasn’t that. He was just nervous. Where had Yuri gone? Why had he chosen this night of all nights, with the least visibility? Otabek couldn’t see more than a couple steps ahead of himself. But with his lantern in hand, everything in the area would be able to see him.

“Yuri?!” He shouted. Where were these steps taking him? They lead past the beach, around the trees. The sand crunched beneath his boots. They had never been to this part before.

He walked along the beach, training his eyes on the footsteps. They lead back into another smaller clearing, where…

Yuri sat at the base of Holly tree, wings glowing. He spoke softly, but Otabek was lost between the twists of the sounds and the tenderness with which they were spoken. It wasn’t in anything that he could understand. Yuri’s eyes were closed, palms resting on the bark. Small white stones lined the base of the tree, reflecting against the olive light from his wings.

Otabek let out a sigh of relief. He almost wanted to rush forward, to hold him. To reassure himself that Yuri was fine. But equally, another force held him back. This was something special, undoubtedly something sacred. He shouldn’t interrupt, not now. He stood back, simply watching.

Yuri’s hands were pale from the cold. He sat on his knees, suddenly squeezing his eyes tight. A single trail streamed down his cheek. Yuri held both palms on the tree, eyes glowing behind his eye lids. His wings fluttered slightly.

Should he be privy to this? This seemed very personal. Would the fairy be angry if he turned to see that Otabek had witnessed the whole thing? Nothing he had read of in his books had detailed anything like this.

He stood to leave, and Yuri’s eyes flickered open. They glowed like coals in the dark. _Eyes of a soldier…_

“Otabek,” he said, swallowing. He turned back to the tree, closing his eyes. _Stay_.

Yuri spoke, words washing over him like water. It seemed like a song, blending words with words until it built up and eroded away at his fears. The scene was striking, the white aglow with green light. The dark lines under Yuri’s eyes faded away, soft lines, furrowed brow.

And he had never seen something so beautiful in his life.

When Yuri stood up, Otabek felt like he had been in a trance. Yuri stepped back from the tree, looking back at him. Where his hands had been, two glowing handprints stood.

“Why are you out here?” Asked Yuri, frowning. Not anger. Concern?

“I woke up, and you weren’t there.” Said Otabek. “Of course I was worried about you.” He stepped forward, closer. “You don’t have a habit of leaving in the middle of the night without notice.”

Yuri’s wings quivered, and he looked back down at the circle of stones.

“My grandfather…” said Yuri. “Nikolai.”

“When?” Asked Otabek, another step closer.

“Six years ago,” Yuri bowed his head. “I buried him here.”

Otabek held the lantern in his hands, and stood stock still. “I’m sorry.” He said, words feeling empty in his mouth.

“He lived a long time.” Said Yuri, grimacing. “78 summers. It’s very long for a human.” There was no bite to his words. They were warm and quiet, spoken just loud enough for them to hear. “He was happy.”

“It is a very long time,” Said Otabek. Yuri looked back at him. His eyes blazed.

“It was at the first snowfall,” Said Yuri. “The first day of winter. I was lucky. The ground wasn’t hard yet.” He sighed, touching a leaf. “He would have loved the holly tree. It’s become so big. He picked it himself.” His expression relaxed. “Do you know what the holly tree’s meaning is?”

“Protection,” Said Otabek. Slowly, he stepped again. Right beside Yuri. “Overcoming anger,” Yuri stared at him, eyes soft and intense. “Celebrating the winter solstice.”

“Yeah,” Said Yuri. He shuffled, rubbing his cold hands together. “Grandpa would’ve loved you,” He said, grinning a little.

“Would he?”

“Yeah, a fellow scholar. He loved that shit.” Yuri snorted, bright eyes filling with tears. He let them fall.

“I wouldn’t call myself a scholar.” He’d never stepped foot in a school.

“Idiot,” Yuri said, grinning through the tears. “You should really read his books. I’m pretty sure you could read a couple. Maybe I’ll translate the others for you sometime, since you like studying that kind of thing.”

“I’ll do that,” Said Otabek. “Maybe you could teach me some Fae too.”

“I barely even speak it that well,” Said Yuri, but he was amused.

“It could be fun.”

“Maybe.” Said Yuri. He leaned closer to Otabek, pulling his cloak tighter over his shoulders. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” asked Otabek, looking down at the fairy. Yuri’s wings quivered, still emitting a little bit of light from the base.

“About a lot of things,” he said. “About you.”

 _Me_? His throat felt funny. “Okay,” he said.

“Yeah,” Said Yuri. Why was Yuri looking away? He wanted to see those eyes. But Yuri looked down, straight to the green handprints on the tree.

“Anything specific?”

“Yes.” Yuri mumbled. “Like how you never talk about yourself. Hiding stuff away.” Yuri sighed, rubbing his freezing hands again. The tips of his fingers were pink with cold. “I get it, Otabek. Everyone has stuff they want to hide.”

“Hide, hmm?” He murmured. Of course he had things to hide. He had to hide himself every time his heart would quicken around Yuri, the way his stomach twisted into knots at every touch. Of course he had things to hide, there was no way to survive without hiding his feelings.

Hesitantly, a pale hand slipped in his own. It quivered, but when Yuri squeezed his hand, he held it fast in his own. Otabek looked down to where they joined, a breath escaping from his mouth. It was so cold, so he held it close. Offering his own warmth.

“Yuri-“ he said, voice hitching, but Yuri shook his head.

“Shh,” Said Yuri. “I just… need to get this out.” He sounded breathy. He took a moment to think, then turning to Otabek. He felt his heart plunge into his throat. “Do you ever…” He said, scrunching his nose up. “Fuck, I’m not good with words.”

Otabek was patient. “I’ll wait.”

“You have no idea what I mean, do you?” Said Yuri, words tight. “Do you have any idea how I feel about you?”

Otabek’s eyes went wide, other hand tightening over the lantern handle. He looked away, heart pounding. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings.”

Yuri was still staring at him.

“Do you want me to clear up any misunderstandings,” Said Yuri, fingers tightening over his own.

“I…” his voice broke. “I would like that.”

“Then close your eyes.” Said Yuri.

He shut them, tight. Otabek would trust Yuri with anything at this point. The smaller hand that held his own pulled always slowly, and he stopped himself from pulling forward to feel that warmth again. He clutched at cold air.

“Don’t open them,” Said Yuri, shakily.

“I won’t,” he promised. Yuri shifted, his feet shuffling in the snow.

Something warm pressed against his lips. Yuri’s hands laced against his own, a brush of soft hair on Otabek’s cheek. He felt his heart jolt, but refused to pull away.

A _kiss_.

Warmth bubbled up in his chest, and Yuri was kissing him, and he was kissing back. Soft lips moving as those arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into his embrace. Otabek carefully lifted his hands to Yuri’s waist, gently rubbing circles into his skin with his thumb. Otabek felt dizzy, but nothing could pull him away from this moment.

Yuri slowly pulled back. Not all the way. His arms still rested on his shoulders. Yuri could probably feel how fast his heart was racing.

“You can open your eyes,” Said Yuri.

So he did. And Otabek swore to all gods that there was nothing that made his heart beat more than the soft look in Yuri’s eyes. His cheeks were stained red, lips pink from kissing.

 _Kissing_.

“So?” Said Yuri, eyes wide.

“Yes,” He said, leaning down once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I didn't want to put anything too obvious at the beginning! Ah, I'm super tired, but please leave your comments and I'll reply as soon as I'm conscious again!
> 
> Thank you <3 <3  
> See you all in the next chapter!


	10. The dear only knows what will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose - But were always a rose.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek and Yuri bond over winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to a whole soundtrack of Ghibli music while writing this. Yeah, took me five hours to write this too (damn you Ghibli, why are you so GOOD)! I hope you enjoy this next chapter! It's about 90% fluff, but these boys need some fluff before I throw a bunch of plot at them. This chapter is pretty much just Otabek and Yuri stabilizing their relationship right before shit hits the fan. Because you and I both know that this happy-fun time can't last forever in a world like theirs, can it?

Yuri sat quietly at the kitchen table, ink in hand. He fiddled with the end of his transcriber, the edge glazing over his lip. _Those_ lips. They turned down into a frown, Yuri glaring at the parchment in front of him. Every few minutes, he would write something down, sharp point scratching against the paper.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Said Otabek, passing him a cup of tea.

“Plenty,” He said, leaning forward to take a sip, keeping his eyes pinned on the text. “Enough without your comments.” Yuri turned the page, gritting his teeth. He almost growled at the page, eyes burning. “Goddamn it!”

They had spoken about this. Yuri didn’t need to translate his grandfather’s books if he didn’t want to, Otabek had told him. Which, in hindsight, wasn’t exactly the best thing to say when Yuri was already pissed.

Otabek watched the anger flicker across Yuri’s face, but he doesn’t say anything. Before, Otabek would have tried to comfort him. But his tantrums (which wasn’t an insult, that’s what they were) faded quickly, and he would be back in Otabek’s arms in his own time.

 _His_ arms.

Yuri would come back to _his_ arms.

 _His._ Arms.

Otabek’s cheeks felt warm.

Yuri slammed the book down, hissing. He checked that the book was fine before leaning back, crossing his arms. “He uses complicated words, I swear I’ve never even heard half of these.”

“What are you translating now?” He asked. Otabek scanned over the page, recognizing a couple symbols.

“It’s… a courtship book,” Said Yuri, biting his lip. _Those_ lips. And Otabek couldn’t help his cheeks going red, sweat prickling at his neck. Yuri looked up at him, blinking. The frown dissipated into a smirk.

What does he even say to that?

“That’s… lovely,” He said, wincing at his own words.

“Lovely,” said Yuri, snorting.

“Yeah,” He replied, doing his best to maintain eye contact as the fairy grinned at him.

 _Fuck,_ when had he fallen this deep? That Yuri could unravel him with such ease. Yuri knew, and it brought him great amusement to watch him fall apart with a look.

“Anything interesting?” He said, eyes flickering over to the way Yuri’s wings steadily beat every few seconds, watching the way they picked up at the question.

“It’s mostly traditional stuff. Old fashioned rituals.” Said Yuri, sliding closer. “Some other stuff as well.” Otabek’s face flushed at the glint in his eye. “You should read it when I’m done.”

Otabek blinked.

“Of course,” He said, closing the gap between them. Yuri’s lips were soft, a little harsh at times, but soft enough to make Otabek melt. No one else had ever made him feel this way, like he could express everything he felt without needed to hold back. His heart would never grow used to this, pounding away in his chest as if he were running.

At the brush of a tongue, Yuri pulled back. He took a deep breath, grinning. “You keep distracting me,” Said Yuri, running a thumb over his cheek. “I’m never going to get this book done if you do this.”

Otabek raised an eyebrow. Yuri’s wings were fluttering.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” He said, amused.

“I never said you were a bad distraction,” Said Yuri, flushing.

And he would admit that it almost made him grin.

 

*

 

“Why do most humans court the opposite sex?” Said Yuri.

Otabek’s eyes flickered open.

“Is that was you were thinking about?” He groaned, stretching out his limbs. Yuri poked his forehead.

“I suppose it makes sense. If you want to have kids,” Said Yuri, sitting up on the bed. “But in the cities, why would that be a problem? You already have too many people. Overpopulation and shit. It’s not exactly practical then, is it.” He crossed his arms. “Why don’t they just go with the same gender?”

Otabek frowned.

“I don’t think most humans would like that,” Said Otabek.

“You’re kidding,” Said Yuri, laughing.

“No,” Said Otabek. “I don’t think they can choose who they’re attracted to.”

“Not like that, but you can always choose a direction. If you know what I mean.” Said Yuri.

“I honestly think most humans are only attracted to the opposite gender,” He said. Only half a year ago he would have put himself in that same box.

“No way,” Said Yuri. “Why would they limit themselves like that?”

“It’s probably not a decision.” He said. It hadn’t been for him. Why would it be for others?

“What about you?” Said Yuri, looking down at him. Otabek shrugged. No woman had ever been as captivating to Otabek as Yuri. But he couldn’t say that he had found them unattractive. That was hardly the case.

“I’m… not entirely sure,” he said, because it was the truth.

“Have you been with someone before?” Asked Yuri. No hesitation, but he seemed nervous. He rushed into things without thinking. It was a quality that he half admired, but half dreaded.

“Yes.” If that had even counted. A woman with dark hair and bright amber eyes. Fair coppery skin as soft as silk sheets. Her eyes had glinted across the bar. She ran a finger along the line of his jaw, and he had been entranced. An inn, and a couple drinks too many. He certainly had found her attractive, but there was no connection. No emotion. Just lust and the aftertaste of regret.

“What was it like?” Yuri leaned closer to him, eyes wide.

“It wasn’t that good.” She had been accommodating enough, as he was inexperienced. But he didn’t even know her name.

“Who?”

“That’s not important.”

“Can you tell me about it anyway?” Asked Yuri. “Please?”

He couldn’t deny that look.

“It was a woman.” He confessed, watching Yuri carefully. He didn’t react. Otabek sighed. They weren’t exactly memories he was proud of. “I was very drunk. It was sudden. I don’t even know her name.”

“Was she attractive?”

“Yuri,” He groaned, turning his head into the pillow.

“Well?” Said Yuri, running a hand through his hair. “Was she?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question?” Mumbled Otabek.

“You had sex with her, didn’t you?” Said Yuri, and Otabek could hear the grin in his voice. “I thought you said that you didn’t have sex with strangers.”

“I- I didn’t pay for her,” Said Otabek. Was this really the conversation they were having? “We met each other once. It wasn’t anything meaningful. It wasn’t anything like this.” Yuri went silent. Steadily, Otabek lifted his head up. Wait, he hadn’t messed up, had he?

“This is meaningful?” Asked Yuri, light emanating from his back.

“Yes?”

“Why is that a question?!”

“It’s not!” Cried Otabek.

“So it is meaningful?”

“Yes.”

A beat.

“Is it?” Asked Otabek, studying Yuri. A red blush went up to his ears.

“Yeah.” Said Yuri, brushing it off by turning his head. If Otabek could glow, he would be glowing as bright as the sun. Yuri looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Holy shit, Otabek,” Said Yuri, grinning. “You’re actually beaming.”

“I smile.”

“Hardly any more than you need to.” Said Yuri, shuffling closer. Even though the late afternoon sun is coming in through the windows, ice framing the glass, the green light brightens the whole bedroom. He pressed a quick kiss to Otabek’s lips, pulling back faster than he wanted to look at Otabek’s face again. “You should smile more, it looks good on you!”

“I smile.” He insists.

“You’re full of shit.” Said Yuri, giggling. “Besides, it’s not like I care if you’ve done anything like that before.”

“Have you?”

Yuri shook his head. “But I’d like to. One day.” Otabek’s stomach tightened.

“So… what are we doing… exactly?” Asked Otabek.

“About what?” Said Yuri, before it hit him “Oh…”

“Because… we do need to talk about this,” He said, gesturing between them. “About us.”

“I really like you.” Said Yuri, which only made the coil in his stomach get even tighter.

“Yeah, I- I feel the same way.” Said Otabek.

“So… I guess we’re courting?”

“I suppose so.” Even those simple words made his head swirl. Yuri’s hand slid in his own. His hands were soft, fingers long, lanky like the rest of him.

“I’m glad.”

“I’d be disappointed if you weren’t.”

Yuri hummed, sliding back under the blankets.

 

*

 

The next day, Yuri woke up early. At this point, Yuri slept more than half of the day, sleeping before night fall and walking up long after the sun had risen in the sky. Otabek didn’t mind sleeping in, feeling content enough to hold Yuri until he woke up. Yuri was warmer than he was, and lighter than air. The cold crept in through the gaps in the wood frame, and through the uneven window glass, so they would pull the blankets up around them. Now that he knew Yuri felt the same way, he had no qualms about holding onto Yuri as long as he possibly could.

But it was weird for him to wake before midday. Otabek carefully shifted away from him, confused. Yuri pushed himself up, his face contorting.

He clutched his back, groaning in pain.

“Yuri?” Said Otabek, rubbing his eyes. “Yuri, are you okay? What’s wrong with your back?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Said Otabek, sitting up. Yuri’s face scrunched up, and he turned away. “Yuri, please tell me what’s going on.” Yuri was obviously in pain, and was doing a terrible job hiding it. His wings quivered quickly, moving rapidly back and forth.

“No, it’s not a big deal!” Spat Yuri. Otabek recoiled.

“Yuri, you’re being ridiculous, let me help you!”

Yuri heaved, completely refusing to even look at him. His wings were now shuddering with every breath, flickers of light flashing through the green veins. His wings! There was something wrong with his wings.

“I thought we promised to tell each other about our problems.” He said gently. “Please, I’m worried about you.”

Yuri sighed, trembling slightly.

“Your wings are flickering,” He said, biting his cheek. This didn’t look good. It wasn’t a pleasant slow glow, or the calm building up of light over time. Sharp painful bursts of light that left Yuri shaking.

“Fine,” Said Yuri, gritting his teeth. “But you’re working yourself up over nothing.” Then he turned, flattening his wings on his back so they were splayed wide open.

Where the wings surged from his back, and the muscles that twisted up along with it, large angry red bumps sat along the bases of his wings. He had stared at Yuri’s wings for long enough to know that this wasn’t right. He felt his stomach wind unpleasantly. The flashes of light came from the base, wavering up the veins.

“How did this happen?” Otabek muttered. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Are you sick?”

Yuri shook his head. “I don’t want you to think I’m weak.”

“I don’t think that. Don’t be stupid. You don’t need to prove it every time by not telling me this stuff.” Yuri’s eyes went wide at his words, taking a breath.

“You see how thick my wings are now?” said Yuri. “All that is putting more strain on my back. That’s it. That’s it,” He watched Otabek carefully. “See, I told you that you were overreacting.”

“Can you please stop saying that? Because it doesn’t look at all good.”

“I’ve dealt with this every year. It’s just something that happens.”

Otabek frowned, glaring at the knots spotting the bases of Yuri’s wings, spine shifting between them as he hunched over. “This… Yuri, this is horrible.”

“Feels even worse, Otabek.” Groaned Yuri, leaning forward, head in his hands.

“There needs to be something I can do,” He said, his own hands twitching to reach forward and touch. “Anything, I want to make you feel better.” Was there anything he wouldn’t do?

Yuri turned his head slowly, staring. Something sat deep in his eyes, something he couldn’t read. Flickering and fading. Warmth and hesitation.

“Can you… rub the muscles at the bases of my wings?” He said, stuttering. “I can’t reach them on my own!” Yuri turned his head back, covering his face with his hands.

Otabek nodded. Gently, he reached forward with one hand, his finger making contact with the middle of Yuri’s spine. Yuri jumped at the touch, but Otabek was careful. He didn’t press into the skin at all, simply grazing over the bumps of his spine with a finger. Allowing him to get use to the sensation. Allowing himself to calm down before he would press forward.

 _Wings are the key,_ he thought. He had been thinking about those four words more and more recently. They echoed in his mind enough times to drive him crazy. For such a long time, he had been wanting to touch them. To run his fingers over the veins, gently stroking over the skin as it lit up under his hands. And now he was so close. Close enough that the peppermint scent tickled his nose.

“Please be careful,” Said Yuri, wings shaking.

“Don’t worry, I won’t press hard.”

“Just- don’t touch my wings, okay?” Said Yuri, his voice suddenly sounding a lot smaller. It almost made him pull away again. But Yuri would never let him do something that Yuri didn’t like, or want to happen. He made it very clear if Otabek was doing something wrong. This wouldn’t be any different.

“I won’t touch them, I promise.” He said, resting his thumb against Yuri’s warm pale skin. He ran slow circles into his spine, holding it there until Yuri relaxed.

Yuri was trusting him with so much, leaving himself so open. Had he ever trusted anyone like this? He was lucky enough to even be this close to the fairy. Otabek was satisfied with this. He was. He shouldn’t feel disappointed. Yuri was hurting. It would be a selfish request on a regular day, especially now.

He ran his hand closer to the right wing, the one that looked a little better than the other one. Every time Yuri would recoil, or even just twitch, he would stop. Otabek wouldn’t throw his trust away, no matter how curious he was.

“You’re taking too long,” said Yuri, rolling his shoulder. “Come on, I thought you were going to help me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Otabek said, his hand stilling, much to Yuri’s irritation.

“It’s going to hurt a little, no matter how long you take,” Huffed Yuri. “Just hurry up, my wings hurt.”

“Tell me if it hurts, I’ll stop.”

“Can you shut the fuck up and get on with it already!” Groaned Yuri, leaning into Otabek’s hand. “If you’re going to rub my back, then do it.”

“Alright,” He said, shaking his head. Then carefully, as gradually as he could, he touched the base of Yuri’s wing. Yuri shivered, but shook his head.

“Don’t go further up than that. They’re… really sensitive right now. Just go around them.” His voice was muffled by his hands.

He worked his way around the base, just moving over the muscle gently. As he moved along, he added a little pressure, pushing in with his thumbs. Yuri’s wings quivered gently. He didn’t shy away, moving carefully enough over the bumps. With growing confidence, and the way Yuri almost seemed to be softening in his hands, he pressed a little harder with his fingers. Yuri groaned, head lolling forward.

“Too much?” He asked, stilling.

“No, no, it’s perfect.” Huffed Yuri. “Keep it like that. Please.”

He worked his way up the right side, working out the knots that had formed. As he pushed past another red bump, Yuri whimpered, pressing his palms into his eyes. His hair had come loose, falling past his ears. Otabek pushed his hair out of the way, over his shoulder, kissing his exposed neck. Yuri shivered, but it wasn’t of pain.

He moved his hands to the other side, starting off soft as he had with the other. Yuri was silent for the most part, sighing softly into his arms as Otabek rubbed in soothing motions over the powerful muscles on his back.

“Otabek,” He exhaled, sending a curl of heat through Otabek’s spine. “Otabek… this is so good,” He whispered, giggling a little. “Shit… _ah_ , can you a little harder there?”

He massaged his thumbs into the side, harder. Yuri’s breath caught in his throat, and he held his palm over his mouth. Otabek wanted to pull the hand away. _Let me hear you,_ he would say, kissing his cheeks. _Are you trying to hide again? Don’t you understand, I want to hear your beautiful voice! You’re already so open to me, and I to you, so why must you cover your mouth? Like the sounds you are making are something to be ashamed of?_

“You’re beautiful,” He breathed, releasing a knot with his fingers. Yuri whimpered again, leaning into those hands. He took his time, rolling up the other side with his thumbs. Yuri’s shoulder shook, but Otabek kept up his pace. Yuri would push into his hands if he even stopped for a second. The flickering on both wings slowed down to a stop, and his wings didn’t shudder anymore.

He moved back, turning to Yuri, who still had palms over his eyes. “Hey,” He said, moving closer, leaning down. “Yuri?” He asked, cautiously pulling his arms from his face. Otabek wanted to see those eyes.

Yuri sniffed, looking up through a sheet of long blond hair. His eyes were glassy, palms wet. “Otabek,” he trembled, leaning forward to grip Otabek’s arms to keep him stable.

“Are you okay?” He asked, heart panging. Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek, sighing. “It didn’t hurt that much, did it?” If Yuri had lied about how much it hurt, Otabek didn’t know what he would do. Yuri laughed gently, shaking his head.

“A little. But it felt really nice,” Otabek embraced him, minding the wings. “It was really good.”

“I’m happy,” Murmured Otabek. “When you started crying, I was worried that I might have hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me, Otabek.” Said Yuri. He rubbed his eye. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I don’t feel sad, I feel… happy.”

“Maybe I overwhelmed you.” Sighed Otabek. “I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

“Whatever it was,” Said Yuri looking up at him. “It was lovely.” He wiped his face on Otabek’s shirt. Otabek felt warmth bubble up in his chest.

This, he thought, out of everything he had ever done before, was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I hope you liked that ending! I always finish these very late, as I spent most of my free time just melting into Ghibli music. Also, to those of you that haven't seen any Ghibli movies, start off with Princess Mononoke. Just saying. It's basically a masterpiece.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! Tell me what you thought!
> 
> I'm also thinking of doing a silly little Q&A thing with the characters on the very last chapter of this fic, so leave questions for specific characters, and I'll post it at the very end! Leave as many as you want, because I'll probably be posting them all.


	11. We stood a moment so in a strange world, myself as one his own pretense deceives;  And then I said the truth (and we moved on) . A young beech clinging to its last year's leaves.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Otabek have a bonding moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned in this is Hijo De La Luna, you should check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNP3-YUUjCw
> 
> More like how Yuri would sing version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0I6ORbPK-kc
> 
> Also, English version of the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sO_AdxXPuXM

Perhaps it was the winter air, the warm kisses pressed to his chilled skin, the way they held each other through the cold night, the fairy’s gaze that lingered on his skin that prompted him to ask. Or perhaps it was just an excuse, a reason he’d made up for his strange desires.

“Can I touch them?”

Yuri’s eyes widened. A hesitant, nervous smile broke out on his face. The swing in tone was immediate. The sleepy morning stupor fading from his eyes. Otabek leaned closer, biting his cheek.

There was no point in him avoiding the question. He had been curious for too long. Yuri didn’t mind the casual touching that already happened. The accidental brush as the kissed, Otabek jumping suddenly, Yuri biting his lip hard enough for him to bite back carefully in return. Turning in the middle of the night to find Yuri’s back turned to him, the peppermint smothering him under the blankets, wings stuffed into his chest.

“Touch what?” Yuri’s wings shifted, poking up over his shoulders. They moved, shifting in the air. Nervous, and… tense?

“Your wings.” Of course he meant the wings. What else could he have meant? Surely this hadn’t been a surprise. Surely Yuri had seen his own gaze on those wings more than once. Enough times for him to realize what he wanted.

Yuri’s face colored, red spreading up to his ears. He placed his bowl down gently. He took a deep breath, but there was a grin on his face.

“Are you kidding?” He said. “You’re… we’re in the middle of breakfast!”

“So,” Said Otabek, shrugging. “What’s wrong with saying that in the middle of breakfast?”

Yuri shook his head, chuckling. He leaned on his palms, his elbows on the wood floor. The joint turned white under the pressure.

“It’s pretty sudden,” Said Yuri, and although his face was red, he propped himself up. “When did we start courting again? Like… two months?”

Why did time have a bearing on this? It’s not as if Yuri minded the touches before. Of course, that didn’t mean that he would feel comfortable with it now. Otabek didn’t think that. If Yuri didn’t want him to, then he wouldn’t mention it again. But if so, he was curious as to why.

“Forty-One days ago.”

“Yeah,” Said Yuri, staring at him. “It’s pretty soon.”

“It’s not making you-“

“No, don’t be dumb,” said Yuri, smirking. “You think I’m blind?” He bites his lip. Yuri knows it’s alluring. Now it was his turn to blush. “I’ve seen you staring.”

“I thought you didn’t notice.”

Yuri chortled.

“I’m so fucking done. You’re so obvious it hurts.”

He finished the last of his stew, tossing his bowl on the table. He winced as he heard the sound of something crashing, cracking. The sound of glass.

“Yuri.” He warned. Yuri turned, grumbling.

“Shit,” Yuri stood, checking over the table. “Fuck,”

“What?”

“It’s the ointment,” He sighed, scooping up something with his hands. “I knocked it over. Fuck me!” Said Yuri, quickly pulling his hand back from the table. He stuck the finger in his mouth, glaring at the desk. “Help me,”

They worked together, scraping the ointment into a dish.

“Is your finger cut?” He asked, and Yuri nodded.

“It’ll be fine. Just chuck out the glass pieces before you cut yourself.” He leaned back, examining his finger. “Shit, I was saving that,” He said. Otabek raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to waste it.” Yuri gave him a look, biting his lip.

“They’re a little dry.” Said Yuri. “But I don’t want to waste it.” He grabbed a large flask from the cabinet, pulling out the cork with a loud pop. “Just pour it in here.”

Yuri didn’t answer his question then. Otabek would wait. He could wait. He had to wait. The fairy didn’t bring it up again.

All they needed was a little more time.

“You wanted to rub it into my wings, right?” He said later as they watched the sun sink down into the snowy hills. The orange light made his hair lighter, and Yuri ran his hand through it.

“Yes.” Otabek said. Was there a point in denying that?

“I just need a little more time,” Said Yuri, looking down. The sky was awash with color, lines of coppery yellow and pink bursts vibrant enough to be seen even as he closed his eyes.

 

*

 

Otabek liked waking up early. He’d watch the sun rise through the cabin windows. He would peek through the shutters, squinting, bright and yellow against the snow. Yuri wouldn’t wake for hours, but it would give him enough time to spend reading. Otabek stoked up the fire, shivering, pulling on thick wool clothing to keep him warm.

How had the fairy survived all these winters alone? With no one to clean, he would have been buried alive in his own house. An even more unpleasant thought was how he could possibly have fed himself. With no interference, Yuri would happily sleep the whole day. Otabek was the one that had to drag him out of bed so that he could at least get some sun on those wings.

Yuri had spent days translating those books for him, and he read every last one. A couple were in English, but the majority were completely incomprehensible to him.

Yuri was happy to translate them, but it would be useful to learn some Fae. At least knowing a few words would even help.

“What about love?” He asked. “How do you say that?”

Yuri flipped through his book, pointing at some symbols on the page.

Люблю.

“Lyublyu. That’s how you say it.”

He tried out the words, Yuri cackling at his pronunciation.

“Your pronunciation is shit,” Said Yuri, snickering. Otabek looked at him blankly, flicking him on the nose.

“Hey, don’t be rude. I thought you wanted me to learn Fae.”

“Yeah, but you keep adding these random sounds in.” Said Yuri, rubbing at his nose. “It’s really not that hard.”

“Then teach me properly.” He said, leaning over the book. “What does that mean?” He said pointing at a sentence.

“Tell me, silvery moon, you who has no arms, how will you rock the child?” Said Yuri slowly scanning over the words with a finger. Otabek raised an eyebrow. “It’s a song. This is a book of songs.”

“What’s the word for song?”

“Pesnya.” Said Yuri, looking down the page, frowning. “So many of these are tragic.”

“What about the one you just read?”

“It’s not very nice either,” said Yuri. “It’s about a woman who prays to the moon so that she may marry the man she loves in another tribe. But, the moon makes her promise to give her first-born as payment.” He looks up. “Yeah, it doesn’t exactly go well from that point. Can you read this word?” He said, pointing at the page.

“Is that... the moon?”

“The son of the moon.” Said Yuri, nodding. “When the child is born, he’s completely white, even though they both have dark skin and dark eyes. The father insists that the woman must have cheated on him, and murders her violently for her betrayal. He leaves his son in the woods to die, where the moon finds him. She starts waning to make a cradle for him.” Yuri sighed, looking at Otabek. Waiting for his reaction.

Otabek frowned slightly. “It’s not a very happy story.”

“It’s not meant to be a happy story.” Said Yuri. “Some stories aren’t meant to have happy endings.” He writes something down, tapping the desk. “It’s not exactly a fairy tale for children.”

“And here I was, thinking you fairies were supposed to be cheerful.”

“Not like I’m the best example.” Said Yuri. “Besides, happy people rarely want to write happy stories. Before… everything, we lived in relative peace. Most of the tragic stories came from that time.”

“It doesn’t mean it can’t be beautiful.”

“It is beautiful,” Said Yuri. “I’ll sing it for you later.”

So he did, the words whispered softly into the air as they sat around the fire. Hauntingly beautiful, he would hear the words echoed for years.

 

*

 

Nothing had ever been as soft as Yuri’s lips. Limbs melting into his own as the gently touches pulled him closer. Warmth spread through his body, his mind pleasantly numbing as their lips brushed against each other. Yuri tasted like winter, as well at the bitterness that crept in with it. But everything Yuri did was careful, his attention completely focused on him. _What had he done to deserve this?_

With a smirk he could feel at his cheek, Yuri nipped at his lip, the pain pulling him only further into lethargy. Yuri bit him again, sending a wave through him that went straight to his groin. Yuri was so close, nearly close enough to touch. He sat on Otabek’s lap, leaning down, hands either side of him. The scent of pear was heady, enough to strangle him, enough that he’d never be able to remove the scent from his skin.

“Yuri…” He mumbled, kissing him softly against the harshness of Yuri’s kisses. He pulled away to catch his breath, heart thrumming against his neck. “Yuri, why are you biting me?”

“You like it.”

Fair point.

“Your heart is going fast.” Said Yuri, pressing a finger to his neck. Another bite to his bottom lip made his heart leap. “See,”

So the kisses continued, venturing further down to his neck. Yuri trailed down his collarbone, breathing into the sensitive dip of his neck. Of course, he couldn’t help the way his breath hitched, how his fingers gripped Yuri’s milk-white arms. Yuri raised an eyebrow.

“Otabek,” He said. “I thought a lot about what you asked me a few nights ago.”

“And?” Said Otabek, trying not to sound too needy. As if Yuri didn’t already know what he thought. Yuri laced their fingers together, bearing down on Otabek from above.

“Okay,” He said, eyes gleaming. Otabek swallowed.

“Okay?” Asked Otabek, trying not to focus too much on how much Yuri was moving, far too close for comfort. Yuri snorted, green light steadily filling the room. The fingers over his own tightened slightly, bringing them up.

“Yeah,” He said, flushed, but assurance radiated from him. Enough to make Otabek shiver. “Yeah, you can touch them.” He whispered, grinning.

Otabek exhaled, taking a deep breath from his nose. It must have looked funny, because Yuri began to snicker, shuffling in his lap. He grinned, eyes warm. That look made his insides melt, the heat trickling into his bones.

“Don’t act like you’re about to fight someone,”

“Sorry, I’m just nervous.” He said, smiling a little in his apprehension.

“I’m the one that should be nervous. You’re the one touching me.”

He inadvertently jerked his hand back. “Could I hurt you?”

“Hardly. I mean, as long as you don’t start scrunching them up or stabbing them, you won’t do anything bad.” He said, rolling his eyes. “You realize I can fuck you up a lot more than you can hurt me.”

“Tell me.” He insisted. “If I hurt you-“

“Dumb human! You couldn’t hurt me if you tried. I’m not delicate. Stop worrying about me, it’s fucking gross!” Yuri kissed his cheek, surprisingly tender. “I’m not worried about you doing any of that shit. No one’s seen me… like this before.” His wings fluttered.

“That’s fine,” Otabek said, heat pooling in his stomach. Yuri glared, sighing. Their hands are still intertwined, and Yuri pulled the hand closer.

“Then touch me already.” Demanded Yuri, shuffling closer. His stomach tightened, coiling at Yuri’s movements.

He took a second to breathe, before leaning up, carefully shifting Yuri off his lap. It wouldn’t be possible to focus if Yuri kept doing that. The fairy looked up at him, confused.

“Otabek?”

“No, it's fine,” he said, kissing him. His hands felt shaky, so he brought them up to Yuri’s shoulders, caressing them. He moved further down. Yuri’s hands came up to his neck, pulling him closer. His blood was boiling. Otabek pulled back, kissing down his neck.

He shifted around to Yuri’s back, biting his lip hard. They were bright, the light enough to fill the room, even through the thick darkness of the winter. The veins glowed beneath his skin, light green marks coming up to his shoulders. The silver wings fluttered, perhaps sensing his stare. He kissed the back of his neck, pressing into his spine.

“Enjoying the view?” Said Yuri. His shoulders trembled, but Otabek kissed them until they were relaxed. He swept Yuri’s long hair out of the way, strands soft as feathers.

“Definitely.” Said Otabek. “Your wings are beautiful.”

Yuri’s ears went red.

He ran a hand down the bumps of Yuri’s spine, just like the last time they had been together this way. It was just as intimate, even more so with Yuri’s permission.

And Otabek was going to seize as much of Yuri as he could.

He ran his finger along the edge of Yuri’s right wing, up over the ridge. It was smooth, but hard like crisp leaves. At the contact, they glowed, burning even brighter. His heart raced, but he swallowed, his thumb stroking the side.

 _Why wasn’t Yuri reacting?_ Did he not like this?

Otabek trailed downwards, touching a glowing vein. The wing jumped, radiant and green. He pressed his fingers to it gently, feeling for a pulse. Yuri leaned forward, wings flaring out.

“Good?” He asked. The red blush had spread further down to his back. Red splotches of color marring with white skin, coated with the green glow.

“What’d you think?” Grunted Yuri. He covered his face with his palms, breathing hard when Otabek moved. Otabek pushed downwards again, and again over the same spot with his fingers. Yuri inhaled, loud against his hands. Otabek’s gut twisted. He pulled downwards, splaying his hand over the side of his wing, slowly dragging back up. The veins came together at the base, winding and bending up to the tips like an intricate cobweb.

Yuri whimpered into his palms, pressing in so that the sound was muffled. His eyes were squeezed shut, pupils glowing under his eyelids. Otabek leaned over his form, gently pulling on his wrists until Yuri let them fall. _Let me hear you,_ he thought. Yuri kissed him, hands clenched around the blankets.

“Seriously?” He hissed, wings flapping.

_Don’t cover your mouth._

“Relax,” Otabek kissed into his collarbone. “Stop being so tense.”

“You’re the one taking your time.” Murmured Yuri. “Don’t hold back, I’m not going to shatter. Stop being so slow!”

Yuri regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. Otabek ran his palms down, straight down to where the wings erupted from his shoulder blades. He could do nothing but try to catch his breath, gasping, choking on air when the human nipped at the back of his neck, rubbing over and over against the tough skin ruthlessly. He was a slow, unrelenting force that built up and up until it overwhelmed him. Yuri’s arms came up to cover his mouth, but they were pulled away. He breathed deep, turning to Otabek, glaring. His eyelashes were wet.

The vine in his chest wound between his ribs.

“Don’t stop!” Said Yuri, clearly distressed at the lack of contact, shaking. He apologized with another kiss, sweet like honey, just as he ran his hands over the glowing veins at the base, Yuri gasping into his mouth. And all at once, it seems to come to a point, fingers against his pulse and twisted up in the blankets, sweat pooling in the dip of his neck as he combusts, shatters, falls apart into the arms of the human that pushed him to that peak. Yuri couldn’t stop himself from tipping over the edge if he had tried.

It took a while for the world to come back to its form, to register the arms wrapped around him. The light grew dim, spent, drained. His hair spread out over the pillows, and Otabek gently pulls the locks out of his eyes. He giggled, but it comes out as a huff of air. Yuri sleepily reached around, pulling Otabek’s shirt up to somehow try and return the favor, but he could barely keep his eyes from closing.

Otabek pulled up the blankets around them. He desired more, but that could be dealt with later. Yuri was asleep, or at least exhausted enough that he seemed to be. Otabek looked down, feeling a rush of tiredness that shot straight through him.

He couldn’t help that sudden feeling, dragging him under. Otabek shut his eyes, twining his fingers between Yuri’s, who squeezed gently back. With that, he slipped under the waves, breathing in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've recently been working on something else fun. It involves superheroes, and coffee shops, and awkward romantic comedy, and how annoying it is when everyone doubts your sentience (so look out for that)! It's going to be a lot less violent than this because I definitely need a break after the next few chapters of this come out.
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3 <3


	12. I think I know enough of hate, to say that for destruction ice, is also great, and would suffice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek and Yuri go to town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. Have fun you guys.

Spring approached with grace, first appearing in the budding of leaves on the trees around the meadow. Patches of hazed grass, turning green at the first sight of sun in months, popped up through the snow like freckles. The winter had lost it’s edge, the final few days of snow clawing and roaring up against the windows, dragging on as if it were angry and bitter at the intrusion. But as with all inevitable things, it fell away.

Otabek sat outside, watching the ocean. The sun had melted most of the snow. Frost clung to the trees, white climbing up like handprints. The grass was wet underneath him. He took a deep breath, of salt and of cold, feeling the chill in his throat. Waves crashed into the shore. Otabek watched the gulls fly overhead, closing his eyes slowly. The sun felt nice on his skin.

He had come out earlier, an hour before the sun rose, the thin layer of snow crunching under his shoes. Needing time to think, to reflect. As much as he would have wanted to stay in bed with Yuri, the memories of their night together running through his mind, there were more pressing matters at hand. He always did his best thinking alone.

Would this change anything? Surely, Yuri was trusting him with a lot more now than before. But what did that mean for them both?

He could imagine spending the rest of his life here. In this cabin, in this meadow, by the sea and the willow trees. With Yuri. He could imagine dying here. The thought wasn’t exactly scary. It was something that he had thought about a lot. Dying.

The woman, he remembered her as clear as day. Young, with dark hair and strange, almost purple eyes. A priestess by the name Sara. Her hands were soft as they measured his own.

It was custom for religious leaders to visit the King annually. They brought gifts and spoke to large crowds of their yearly prophecies. He attended every single one at the side of the king, even if he wasn’t a particularly religious man himself. If the gods wanted something from him, they would surely make it obvious.

Otabek wondered what they would think of this arrangement.

It wasn’t as if this sort of thing was condemned, but it was fairly uncommon. A fairy and a human, a man with another man.  Hardly something you see very often. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were watching.

Sara was beautiful, an aura of grace on her shoulders that just seemed so earnest. She was friendly and cheerful, smiling with ease as she lit her candles and pulled his palms towards her.

“You’ll die a hero,” She had promised, the fumes from the candles strong and pungent lavender. “You are favored by them, I can tell.” Her eyes sparkled. “You will receive limitless wealth in the afterlife.”

“I don’t care about wealth,” He said, running his fingers along the lines of his palms. Wealth could only take you so far.

“Don’t be cheeky!” She said. “I haven’t seen those lines before in my life! You really are lucky. I wonder why they like you so much? You have a great destiny.” He didn’t doubt her. She was renowned for her knowledge of the gods. She was being spoken of as the priestess of the century. It was highly likely she would take the title of ‘High Priestess’ when she was older.

_A great destiny._

_Dying a hero._

How would he die a hero? He had betrayed his friends, left his country. Yes, he was with Yuri, and he couldn’t even imagine trying to live without him now. But life was peaceful here. They were safe in the woods. A hero’s death was full of blood, and pain, and fighting until you couldn’t fight any longer. Growing old here, living out his days in this calm, wasn’t exactly that.

But he was here. Otabek was here, with Yuri. Beautiful, perfectly imperfect, endlessly witty, sharp tonged and warm hearted, defensive and powerful, sensitive, fiercely protective Yuri. Destiny didn’t have any bearing on that.

It didn’t matter now. A hero’s death, a great destiny. He was happier than he had ever been. Nothing his destiny could give him would make up for that. Even if this wasn’t supposed to be what happened, he wouldn’t swap it out for anything.

A hand leaned on his shoulder, and Yuri pressed his lips to his own. Otabek’s eyes opened slowly, warmth filling in his lungs with each breath. He sat beside Otabek, hand over hand in the cool, damp grass. His long blonde hair was loose, hanging over his eyes. He swept it behind an ear.

“It’s a beautiful morning.” Said Otabek, smiling. “You’re up early.”

“Hmm,” Said Yuri. “You weren’t there when I woke up.” Yuri faced the ocean, wings fluttering in the breeze.

“I just came out here to think.”

“You think too much.”

“Sure,” He said, kissing Yuri’s cheek. “Was last night okay?”

“It was good,” Said Yuri, flushing. “I was worried you didn’t like it.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t… do the same to you.”

“You don’t need to.” Said Otabek. “I was fine with just that. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I want to.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, heart quickening. “Do what you want, Yuri.”

“Tell me what you want.” Said Yuri, leaning down.

So, he did.

This time, he didn’t need to feel guilty. He didn’t need to picture a dream-Yuri, the green eyes glinting as fingers pulled on the hem of his pants. He didn’t need to imagine it anymore. It was in front of him. Dream-Yuri had been slow, and confident. The real Yuri was cautious, jumpy, and quick. His fingers dug into his own forearms.

Perhaps she had been wrong with her prediction. Maybe he wasn’t meant to die a hero. Maybe this was supposed to be his destiny.

So when he leaned up for a kiss afterwards, the taste of him on Yuri’s tongue, he thanked every god he knew that his life was like this. Whatever they had planned for him couldn’t outweigh this.

 

*

 

It was like every other morning. Until he opened his eyes.

He was completely covered in tiny white flecks. The peppermint was enough to burn his nose. He recoiled, standing up quickly, brushing off the flakes. He stared at his hands. Completely covered in white.

Yuri’s scent was everywhere. Not that it was unpleasant, but it wasn’t supposed to be this strong. What was going on?

“What the…?” Said Yuri, yawning. He stretched, flexing his wings. It sent another flurry of white dust onto the sheets. His eyes opened, wide.

“Shit, eww!” He said, nose scrunching. “Ugh, gross.” Yuri touched his wings, his own hands brushing off flecks from his wings. “Oh gods, this is fucking disgusting.”

“What?”

“My wings are shedding.” Said Yuri, gingerly standing up, brushing off the dust. “Get out, don’t breathe it.”

“I’m not going to breathe it,”

“I don’t know what you’re going to do! You always sniff my wings,”

“I don’t.” Why did Yuri make such accusations?

“Fucking human, just admit you like it.” Yuri scoffed, collecting up all the blankets.

“Never,”

“Gods, you’re so weird. Just don’t breathe it in,”

“Is it poisonous?”

“No, it’s just dead skin. But seriously, don’t, it’s gross. I’ll never be able to look at you the same way if you do that.”

They cleaned out the house, Yuri watching Otabek carefully at every step. He shrugged, giving Yuri a blank look. Yuri glared back at him as he shook the blankets out. The dust had made it’s way between the floorboards, and Yuri scrubbed it out with a broom. He was vigorous, removing every single spot. He wiped his brow, shaking his wings off in the wind.

“I’m going to take a bath.” Said Yuri. “Want to join me?”

Obviously.

He scrubbed off his wings in the bath. They sat in the boiling water. It wasn’t clear enough to see through. Otabek washed Yuri’s hair, running his hands through it until it was combed.

“I didn’t tell you about my mother, did it?” Asked Yuri, nudging his leg.

“Not much,”

“When she left me here with Grandpa, she almost cut off my wings.” A jolt went through Otabek, and he frowned.

“Why would she ever think of doing that?” Just the thought of that made him feel sick.

“To blend in with the humans.” Said Yuri. His eyes dropped. “It’s not like the muscles there would disappear, but I would be able to look normal enough.” He closed his eyes, relaxing in the water. “Heh, normal.”

“You’re normal.”

“Uh huh,” Said Yuri. “You know what I mean.”

“You can’t do magic without your wings.”

“I know.” Said Yuri. “Grandpa convinced her not to do it. He said he’d hide me away. He had seen too many that had already done it. He said they didn’t last very long.”

They sat in the quiet darkness, the water cooling around them.

“I’m grateful she didn’t then,” Said Otabek.

“I was just thinking about how different my life could’ve been.”

“I like it better this way.”

“Definitely.”

 

*

 

They set off.

Delilah was nervous, but that horse was always nervous. She shook her head, grumbling.

“I’ll stay with her,” Said Yuri. “Just show the blacksmith what you want. He’ll make it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” He asked, climbing onto the saddle. He pulled Yuri up behind him, arms coming around his middle. As if Yuri would fall off.

“Fuck no. I’ll stick with the horse. After last time,” Yuri bristled. “I’m not going to shrink. That shit was horrible.”

“Wasn’t that bad.”

“You weren’t the one being stuffed into a small confined space!” Yuri cried, squeezing him tighter.

Delilah snorted, hoofs clicking against roots propping out. She moved carefully around them. He rubbed her ears affectionately.

“Are we near the barrier?” He asked, looking ahead. Yuri nodded.

“You don’t need to worry about the barrier.”

“Oh?” He asked, turning his head.

“Yeah, the bond, it negates that.” Said Yuri, brushing him off.

“More… ‘magic and shit’.” Said Otabek, gesturing randomly in the air.

“Pfff, yeah.” Said Yuri, grinning.

They were quiet, listening for the sounds of people. Yuri tied Delilah to the tree, sitting down.

“Alright, don’t take too long.”

It was a few minutes through the woods to the village. It was lively, although not as busy as last time. He felt a little strange without Yuri beside him. His constant presence. Even when they weren’t in the same place, Yuri would only be a moment away. They were always in contact. They had been together for nearly a year.

But now, he was out of town. He wasn’t close.

When had Otabek become that dependent?

“Oh, good morning!” Called a voice to his side. “Bolat, hey!”

Bolat? Oh, he’d used that name last time. The Asian man waved at him, smiling slightly. He balanced a cart of vegetables on his hip, and it looked rather heavy. Yuuri, wasn’t it? Such similar names…

“Good morning,” He said, waving.

“I haven’t seen you around much,” Said Yuuri, shifting his glasses back up his nose. “I thought you might have left with the others.”

“I’ve just been busy,” Said Otabek.

“Busy? Well, okay!” He said. “Take care of yourself. The war might be over, but it’s still pretty dangerous out of town!” He smiled. “I need to take this to Mari, but it was good seeing you! You should come to the temple sometime. I don’t want to pressure you if you don’t want to, but it’d be a good way to meet new people, right?” He bit his lips awkwardly.

Otabek nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” _The war is over?_

_The war is over?_

How much had he missed? He’d have to hurry up here. He picked up his pace, coins clinking in his pocket. He hurried past people, barely looking. Where had the blacksmith been again? He bit his cheek, frowning. Another thought came to mind. Something else pulling on his consciousness.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

Wait…

They had the bond since Yuri had fixed his wound. He just hadn’t known about it the last time they went to town. He hadn’t even questioned it when Yuri had mentioned the bond on the way here. Had Yuri lied? Their bond hadn’t changed anything before. He felt something else rise in him. They had vowed not to keep secrets.

He needed to get to the blacksmith, get the traps made, then get back to Yuri. He needed to ask. Yuri couldn’t have lied to him, right?

His heart beat faster as he nearly stepped into a run. The vine in his side, the slight nudge it gave his ribs at every step. Why would Yuri lie? What would be the point?

Otabek smelled the smell of the burning coals before he saw it. Quickly, he ordered the parts he needed, paying the coin up front.

“Sir, I’ll need to go to the back,” Said the woman, rolling back her stained sleeves.

“I’ll wait.” He said, sitting down on the stool beside the counter. He needed to calm down. He waited, each moment passing by at a pace too slow for comfort. Otabek tapped his finger nervously against the counter.

“Otabek?”

His heart stopped pulsing. That voice. Carefully, he turned, already seeing the silver hair and pointed ears in his head.

His eyes were wide, mouth open as he just stared down at him. His chest seemed to pull in on him, leaving him dizzy.

This was it.

He was caught. There was no way to escape this. He could run, but they would know he was in the area. Victor was standing in the doorway, blocking the entrance.

“Sir, you…” He said, frowning. “Otabek, everyone thinks you’re missing?”

Why wasn’t he doing anything? He wanted to run, back to Yuri, back to the safety of the barrier. Otabek knew what panic felt like. The fear, the pain, it was all going to happen eventually. Why did he think that this was unavoidable?

A thick, horrible twisting pain burned in his side.

He knew how to work with panic. Every time they had rushed into battle, he had needed to push it back, to hold himself together.

When the woman handed him his bag back full of parts, he quickly stuffed them in his pocket.

“Yes,” He said, “I’m alive.”

“There’s a ransom on you,” Muttered Victor, eyes narrowing. “Otabek, I-“

“Nobody can find out I’m here,” He said, hearting beating fast enough to make his head spin. “Victor, please.”

“Just go,” He said. “Go,”

“Thank you,” He gasped, but Victor shook his head.

“Go.”

The breath of fresh air in his lungs kicked him back into clarity. His soldiers, his men were in town. If only he had looked around. If only he had used his eyes. If he had paid attention he would have been it. The soldiers, they were everywhere. The entire courtyard was filled with them all

He felt nausea roll up inside him.

“Commander,” he stammered, the older man bearing down on him. Yakov. Was it disappointment? Anger? All eyes were on him now.

“Please, allow me-“

“Stop,” Said Yakov, disgust written all over his face. “There is nothing you can say to fix this.”

“Let me-“ He shouted in desperation, because he needed to get back to Yuri, and he needed to leave, and this couldn’t possibly be happening.

A spike of pain went through his side.

“Resist, and I’ll have to take even more drastic measures,” Said Yakov, sighing. “Otabek, I thought you were loyal.” The words were harsh, cutting into him like a knife. Hands came up to grab his own, and he shook them off, clenching his teeth. _Yuri! I need to get back to him I need-_. Before he could think, hands came up to his neck, silver hair and blue eyes, fingers pressing to his temples.

It was the last thing he felt. Before he saw black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next chapter!


	13. The fault must partly have been in me. The bird was not to blame for his key. And of course there must be something wrong, in wanting to silence any song.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The troops are not going to like this.” He growled, glaring out from under his hands. “This is going to cause dissent.”
> 
> “It doesn’t matter what they think,” Said Victor. “You know what sort of man he is.”
> 
> “It’s not your job to keep up moral, so you shouldn’t be talking.” Yakov sighed, leaning back. “You,” he said, pointing at Otabek. “Better have a good gods-be-damned explanation for this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the cliffhanger last time! (NOT REALLY)
> 
> But don't worry! I'm not particularly fond of bad endings. (OR AM I??!?!)
> 
> I'm sorry, I'm terrible.
> 
> Please forgive me, dear readers.

_All he can see is black. The sort of chalky black of burnt wood, of clouds on a stormy night, of fingertips darkened with suppressed wrath. A soupy, sickly dark gray that could suck him under and never let him go._

_He’s been here before._

_He can’t see his body, limbs transparent. Otabek feels up his stomach, up to the hardness of his ribs._

_Nothing._

_No vine._

_He spins in the space, listening out, trying to quiet his heartbeat that threatens to drown him out. Every beat sinks him a little, until he’s dropping faster and faster. It only sends his heart into more of a frenzy, working, pumping thickly in his veins. It feels like a thud, heavy disgusting thuds that make him want to jump out of his skin._

_The smell of ash._

_The scent of mud._

_No pear, or honey, or peppermint._

_His temples burn, and when he looks at his fingers that had rubbed his head, they’re painted in sky blue, like ink. It’s all consuming, dripping down his fingers to his now visible arms and legs. They wrap around his fingers, down, down, only further down. His skin, previously streaked in green and brown turns to blue, bright enough to kill him._

_It’s killing him._

_It’s KILLING him._

**_Yuri_ ** _!?_

_Up, up, up, until all he can see is blue._

**_Yuri_ ** _!_

_Of course, he’s not here. Yuri is safe. Yuri wouldn’t be here. He’d stay, safe._

_Yuri would stay._

_Otabek could die. His heart ached at the thought. Yuri was everything. Life, love, and all things in between that made up the bond that ran under his skin. Otabek could die, if Yuri was safe. There was nothing else he wanted to live for._

_The world began to fall, ghostly black, green, blue ink. He closed his eyes._

**_Yuri_ ** _._

_His mother was dead, father. He had lost his loyalty to his king, and to his fellow soldiers and friends. Was there anything else but Yuri? The boy cloaked in deeply held despair that had made him laugh more than he had in his life, the fairy that trusted him with so much despite their twisted pasts, the man that writhed in his arms as he pressed on quivering wings. The one he was bonded to._

**_Has anyone ever done so much for me_ ** _?_

_No._

_He fell at break neck speed, dropping head first, unable to right himself. The ground would be getting closer and closer, he’d hit it in a matter of seconds. His eyes wide open, watching the last slivers of green drip from his toes into the abys. His lungs seized at every breath, dragging the air like sand._

**_It’s okay to let me fall_ ** _._

_It wasn’t **okay**. He was **selfish** , he didn’t want to **die**. But Yuri needed to be **safe** , **Yuri would be** -_

_He hit the water with a snap, lashing against his back painfully as blue ink exploded around him. Otabek gasped from the pain, water flowing into his lungs. It was his first time in the ocean, the salt on his tongue, the impossible deep blue of the water. It burned his eyes. He rubbed at his arms, brushing off the ink to reveal his skin._

_And all the green had disappeared. A blank, clean slate of skin, uncracked, unbroken. It was all gone._

*

 

The first thing he felt was the dirt of the ground against his cheeks. The grass had made indents, and when he pulled away it felt tingly and cool. Something rough swiped his forehead, chilling the skin.

“Good morning,” said the voice, cold.

His stomach sank.

Yuri.

Fuck.

He opened his eyes, blinking. Morning? He didn’t see anything.

He would avoid making sudden movements. He would try his best to stay out of trouble. He would escape. He needed to establish that with himself, make a deal with himself that he would get out of this. If he didn’t do that, he’d screw up. Every action would be resistant, and that could hardly help him.

Focus.

Otabek couldn’t go back to Kazakhstan.

Focus.

Focus, and think. No panicking.

Every thump of his heart made him twitch around his bound wrists.

“You don’t recognize me?” Said the voice again.

His throat was sticky, saliva bitter in his mouth. He took a deep breath through his nose. _Easy_ , he said to himself. Identify your location. For all his sight told him, he could be anywhere. It was earthy, and wet, like it had rained recently.

Possibly the wood?

“Hey,” grumbled the man, pushing on his shoulder. “He didn’t put a gag on you.”

“Sorry,” he croaked, clearing his throat. “I don’t recognize your voice.”

“Shit,” said the man, snorting. “Nine months and you’ve already forgotten everyone? You are quite the traitor, aren’t you?”

“Who are you? Again?” Otabek asked. Why was his voice so dry?

“Seung-Gil Lee.” The fingers on his shoulder dig in. “You understand your position here, don’t you?”

“I’ll cooperate.” Like hell.

“Heh, you’re screwed.” Seung-Gil said, pulling away. “Yakov almost killed you. I suggest you thank Victor. He’s the only one that stood up for you.”

No one else? Of course, why would they?

“Did you think anyone else would?” He said. “You think after everything that happened, we’re supposed to get let this slide.”

“No,” Said Otabek. “I didn’t.”

“People are dead. People we know.”

“Who?”

“Chris,” it comes out, chewed up and spat, and it’s enough to make him wheeze. “You’re strong. Maybe he would have lived if you hadn’t been such a coward.” His voice is cool, infuriatingly cold.

His stomach turned, sick.

“Gods,”

“Or maybe he would have died anyway.” Said Seung-Gil. “How is anyone supposed to know? Of course, that’s not going to stop anyone from blaming you.”

“I didn’t mean to leave.”

“Don’t tell me that,” He said. “You’re going to have to explain everything to Yakov. Don’t try to tell me.” There was a movement from his side. “I’ll get Victor. He’ll figure it out.” He huffed. “It’s not like you can get up anyway.” With the sound of flapping material, he was gone.

Shit, Chris. In hindsight, there had been something between Victor and Chris. He hadn’t seen it until he’d been with Yuri but… There had been something there. It wasn’t romantic, per say, but it had obviously been something else.

They had never been close. Sometimes Otabek would see him at the bar with Victor and Michele, and they would occasionally train together before he had become a lord protector. Chris was lively, free with his emotions, friendly, and vulgar. They were complete opposites, so it made sense they wouldn’t spend too much time together.

Just a moment ago, a minute back, in his mind at least, Chris had been alive. But now, suddenly, gone.

He needed to get out of here.

But he was still blind to the world. He blinked his eyes a couple more times to check again, that yes, he was blind. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t wear off. If he could get away, the spell would begin to fade. Maybe.

Victor was only a half elf. It was highly unlikely that his magic would be strong enough to survive the distance. Otabek hadn’t even known Victor was this proficient. Something had obviously changed. He hadn’t been able to do this before. His magic was borderline non-existent, barely enough to be noticeable.

Freedom was only a tent flap away, and he couldn’t even move.

**Yuri.**

Grumbling, he tugged at the knot at his wrists. The skin felt sore, but he pulled harder. The rope only tightened, squeezing painfully.

“Otabek, don’t try to escape.” He almost jumped at the words. Why hadn’t he heard him come in.

“Victor,”

“I’ll give you back your sight,” said Victor, a forced smile in his voice. Victor always smiled at the wrong times. “But only if you promise you won’t try to run.”

“I can’t run.” The rope at his ankles pulled tight on his skin.

“You make a fair point!” Said Victor. “And this set up is starting to drain me out.” A finger was placed against his temple. Light faded back into his vision, then shapes, then blues and greens. And silver.

Otabek breathed in.  The twisting in his chest melted a little, and he looked around. He couldn’t look at Victor. Not after what he had heard.

He was in a small tent, white walls waving in the wind. The cold seeped in through the thin material. There was a small foldable wooden desk to the corner, and Victor sat on a stool in front of him. His silver hair was longer, almost touching his shoulders now. Uncut, a piece hovering just over his lip. A bit of stubble that he had forgotten to shave off his normally smooth face sat just under his chin. His cheeks were more slim than usual.

How hard had this hit him?

“You should eat,” Said Victor, sliding a tray towards him. The ties at his wrists fell away, and he was able to pull himself up. It was a thick porridge of maize, sticky and lumpy. He hadn’t exactly missed this. His stomach was chewing on itself, and he swallowed it down.

“Wow, you’re almost inhaling it.” Said Victor.

“Hmm,” he said, trying to ignore the blandness of it that threatened to work its way back up his throat. “How long was I out for?”

“Only a day,” said Victor. “But the commander thought it would be better if you lived!” He leaned down from his stool, holding a cup of water. Otabek drank it down.

“Thank you, Victor.” He said. “For what you did.” Victor’s eyes turned away, cool like melting snow.

“I couldn’t let you die.” He said. “He was going to kill you. You might be a traitor,” He said, smiling. “But you’re still a good man. But, this is going to cost you.”

“Cost me?”

“You owe everyone an explanation.” Said Victor, strongly serious. He didn’t look good with a serious expression. It settled over his features wrong. Misshapen, warped. “You have an explanation.” A statement, not a question.

“I’ll explain everything,”

“Please do.” Said Victor. He smiled easily, even as his eyes remained the same. “I did promise that I would get some information out of you. Besides, the commander needs to be let down every once and a while, or he sets his expectations too high.”

He won’t make a promise. He didn’t want to promise anything. Because all he could do was break it. Otabek could bear this out. He was going to be careful.

He’d be fine.

He would be fine.

He said it, over and over when Victor pulled him up.

“Don’t try to run,” he warned, tightening his hold on Otabek’s wrists. “You will only be killed.” There is was again. The disappointment. Cool, melting snow, pooling in his eyes. He opened the flap of the tent, pushing him out.

They were in the woods, a clearing of sorts. Dead fires from the nights before were charcoal stains on the wet grass around the lines of tents. Various soldiers were sharpening blades. One limped past, his arm missing from his elbow down. A tree had been used for target practice, the cuts exposing the milky white underneath the bark.

They all turned to look.

They started walking. Victor cleared his throat, waving those away that approached him with his smile. He spotted one of them, sneering over his whetstone. The sun, hot and jarring, made him blink. Otabek wanted to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It might clear his vision.

His neck throbbed painfully.

As he walked, eyes turned to him. Of course they looked. They hadn’t seen him for months. He could look back. He could, if the shame didn’t dig into his shoulders.

Was this planned? To make him walk in front of all the people he had betrayed? Otabek wouldn’t put that past Yakov.

Why did everything feel so disjointed in his head?

He felt dizzy, half sick.

It was as if the world fell away from around him as he walked, each step pushing off the ground with effort. Why was it so hard to concentrate? Everything around him was blurry, faded green mixed with white and grey.

The world pulled at his feet, dragging him down. Every breath tugged on his chest, down, down.

Then, all of a sudden, it all came back. He was able to breathe, his head clearing. The white fuzz disappeared. Bursts of color back into the world.

The hands on his wrists tightened.

“Otabek,” said Victor. “You better not be planning anything.”

He nodded, straightening his shoulders.

Why had he just zoned out all of a sudden? He hadn’t even noticed that he had been slouching.

Victor pulled the large tent open, pushing him in side, closing the flap behind him.

Behind the desk in the center of the room, a mug of something hot in his hand, was the Commander. The lines in his face had only grown since they had last seen each other, like wrinkled, stiff cloth. A perpetual frown was on his face, digging into his skin. From the nine years they had known each other, Otabek had only seen him smile four times.

He looked up, quill poised over the page.

Otabek gulped.

“Sit,” He grumbled. He rubbed at the lines in his brow, sighing. His hands looked like leather. A thin white scar ran across his knuckles. “Victor, untie his wrists, I can’t talk to him like this.”

They fell away, burning his skin.

“Sir, should I go?” Asked Victor, leaning forward. Yakov waved him off, irritable.

“No, no, stay.” He said. “Shit, I didn’t want to have to deal with this.”

“It’s better this way,” Said Victor. “He can get a fair trial in the Capital.”

“The troops are not going to like this.” He growled, glaring out from under his hands. “This is going to cause dissent.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think,” Said Victor. “You know what sort of man he is.”

“It’s not your job to keep up moral, so you shouldn’t be talking.” Yakov sighed, leaning back. “You,” he said, pointing at Otabek. “Better have a good gods-be-damned explanation for this. And you,” He said, pointing at Victor. “Should stop trying to be so optimistic. It’s a wonder that behavior hasn’t killed you already.”

“As if anyone else could get you to listen.”

“I take it back.” Said Yakov, shaking his head. “It’s a miracle you haven’t been stabbed out of spite!” Victor chuckled. “Alright, let’s get this over with. We’re going to have a long, through discussion, and you are going to tell me everything. No skipping over details, no lying.”

“Yes sir.” He muttered.

“Don’t fuck around. You’re lucky I didn’t kill you.” He leaned forward. “If it were anyone else, they would have had their heads removed.”

“I understand,” he said, looking up. “Thank you, sir.”

“Good, now that we’re through with that.” Said Yakov, quickly sipping the hot liquid. “You owe me an explanation.”

 

*

 

When he awoke, he was in a bed. Quickly looking around, he called out. Nobody answered. Once he could stand, he had tried to find Delilah. But she was gone. Whoever had taken him to this cabin had also taken her.

It’s not like he had any idea who had left him there. He had searched the whole house to no avail. His cries of pain were left unanswered. The only thing he had been left with was the strange vine in his ribs, and a supply of food enough to last him a couple weeks. He tried removing it, but it was stuck in his flesh.

There was a lake close by to the house, where he could fetch fresh water. He wanted to save his non-perishable food for winter, when the game would be rare, and food would be scarce. There were fish in the rivers, and plenty of rabbits to catch. With each day, he wondered further and further away from the cabin, but had to come back before nightfall. He had heard wolves in the area, and wanted to avoid them at all costs.

The months passed by. Otabek wanted to leave, to get back to his soldiers. But he didn’t have a clue where he was. All the landmarks were wrong.

He got through the summer and fall without much trouble, but as soon as winter came around, he struggled to find food. The dried meat could only last for so long.

He wondered when the mysterious person would come back. He wondered what they might think of him. They didn’t come back, of course, but it was strange to think that this person had just left him there, without even leaving a letter.

The last trap broke late in the winter. He couldn’t make a new one; he didn’t have the metal to do it. So he packed a bag, and set off.

It snowed for days, but lightly. He was able to avoid the most of it, travelling under the trees. When he made it back to the town they had stopped in before, he had just gone into the blacksmith.

That is when it had happened.

There was nothing more to it.

 

*

“So that’s what happened.” Said Yakov, raising an eyebrow. “Is that everything?” He asked, quickly writing something down. A report, possibly.

“Yes, sir.” He said, nodding. Yakov looked at him skeptically, but nodded.

“Alright, Victor, sent him outside. Get Teil to watch him.”

Teil sat on a log, smoking. He watched him with a lazy eye, but he held a long dagger in his hand. Hardly intimidating, but considering that he was completely immobile, it was probably a bad idea to try anything. His head was leaned against the tent.

So he heard everything.

“I’m beginning to believe you had alternative motives for saving him,” said Yakov, huffing.

Victor grinned, obvious in his voice, and Otabek could only picture the pearl white teeth, beaming. “Not exactly my type.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Sure,” Said Victor, laughing.

“It’s always the girly types with you.”

“You don’t know me at all, Yakov!”

“Just don’t go causing any trouble where you have none. I have enough to deal with without you adding to it. You can’t be so open with it. Stop it with the new recruits, you’re going to scare them off.”

“I wouldn’t do something like that!” Exclaimed Victor. “And that red-head was hardly scared.”

“Please, too much information.” He said. “I’m looking out for you.”

“I’m grateful, Yakov.” Said Victor. “Believe me. I don’t know where I would be without you, old man.”

“Go take him back. We’re going to start riding tomorrow. Make sure you have eyes on him at all times. Knock him out if you must. And call Lee, he needs to deliver something for me.”

“Will do, sir.” He came out, grinning. “I’ll take you back to the tent.”

Otabek shrugged. It didn’t matter either way where he went. He would keep waiting for an opportunity. Victor smiled at him, blue eyes twinkling.

When they were back in the tent, Victor called for Seung-Gil, handing him the letter. When they were all alone, Victor finally spoke.

“That was a lie, wasn’t it?”

His heart dropped.

“Sorry?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Said Victor, smile lines creasing. “That vine. It’s not what you said it was, is it?”

“What, this?” He said, pointing at his chest. “I wouldn’t know. I woke up with this.”

“You’re a good liar, Otabek.” Said Victor, chuckling. “But it’s not going to fool me. You have a bond. It’s very obvious.”

“Bond?”

“As soon as I knocked you out, I could feel it. It wouldn’t be that strong if you didn’t want it to be there.” Victor sighed, shaking his head. “My parents shared the same thing. Whoever this ‘mysterious stranger’ is, you love her. This doesn’t happen accidentally.”

“Victor, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I won’t tell Yakov,” said Victor. “If this Elf loved you enough to make this bond, then I hardly want to interfere! If you cooperate with us, maybe you won’t even get that bad of a sentence. Then you can go back to her.” He pleaded with his eyes, soft snow, melting. Tears. “Then you can go back.”

Victor was… crying?

He noticed, swiping at the tear. Victor frowned.

“Victor?”

“Just work with us.” He said, biting his lip. “If you love her, don’t do this.”

Otabek nodded.

 _Fuck no_. He couldn’t give up on Yuri. No matter what was at stake, no matter if he lost everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hope you liked that! I've just been listening to Rag'n'Bone Man - Human for the whole chapter (even though it's not really the best fit). I honestly have no idea why it's taking me so long to write these next few. It's baffling.
> 
> If you have any ideas of what you want to see (because I will be adding side stories), then please say so! I'm always looking for new and interesting things to write!
> 
> See you all soon!


	14. Nature’s first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, so dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek learns about his predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to believe that my chapter summaries are no help at all. Honestly, I went through them all, and they were not very helpful. I'll definitly fix that when I go through this again.
> 
> There will be some changes to my schedule coming up soon. I have quite a lot on my plate, (as I have had for these last few weeks), but very soon that work load will increase. I will upload once a week from here on out. It is utterly impossible for me to even do more than one at this time. I hope you all will understand!
> 
> Happy reading everyone!

Sleep came in sparing amounts. He was never allowed to close his eyes for too long. Each whine of a dog, each scuffle of boots past his tent made his heart pound. He had trained his soldiers well. They wouldn’t give him rest.

He had dealt with his good share of prisoners.

He wouldn’t ever tell Yuri about those ones.

It was easy to gain experience on the road. There were rebel camps dotted along the road. They attacked travelers and merchants on the way, hoarding their food and killing their horses for meat. Those camps were easy targets. Small, plentiful, plump with riches.

They would attack in broad daylight. There was hardly any point in waiting until night. It would only waste more time, and his soldiers needed to eat. Normally, the attack would only last a few minutes. Only a couple would die, and once that was over with, the rest would surrender.

He’d load them into a wagon and send them back to the Capital. No point in wondering about what happened to them after that. In truth, they were probably sold off, or charged and made to work their debt off.

Make no mistake, those people, those rebels had hurt people. They had hurt so many people. The damage was laid in thick in the houses burnt to ash, and the towns turns to rubble. These were terrible people. And their battalion was one of the best. He had heard things about the others. Both sides, the rebels and the Capital soldiers rushing into villages, threatening women and children with things he could barely think without feeling disgusted. It had been minimal from both sides, but the thought was disorientated.

His battalion had never done that. Otabek would have killed any man that had dared to do so. He would have had to. It was Yakov that was always reprimanding him on being too soft on his soldiers. That one would have been the example. Thankfully, that had never happened. He hated threatening his own men.

These were awful people.

But it was awful, being on the other end of it all.

His guard wouldn’t let him sleep. He sat behind him, playing a game with cards. Every so often he’d smack his hand down on the desk, grinning behind his messy cigarette at every jump Otabek made in response. He couldn’t help it, the lack of sleep fizzing in his nerves. Otabek had instructed his men to do the same. In the morning, they would barely be able to hold their eyes open. They’d be docile enough. Frazzled enough to where they could barely think. And this one was clearly getting a kick out of it.

 _No_ , he thought, the edges of the tent beginning to blur. He needed to be awake and alert tomorrow. Every opportunity needed to be taken. To be grasped, to be held tight and wretched out of unwilling hands.

Now, it was a pure, selfish thought that fought through the others. **He** needed to get back to Yuri. Yuri wasn’t a child. He could take care of himself, but Otabek didn’t want him to do that. It must have been something old, primal in his system. It felt that way, with how naturally his dizzy mind reacted to the thought. The separation curling up in his skin, crawling up and down his spine like an itch he couldn’t reach. As if the distance could be measured in the tightness of his throat and the vine winding into his chest. There was no doubt that the thing had wound its way around his heart now.

“Hey, look at me, ya little bitch!” Said the cigarette man. He poked him with something, hard in the ribs. “Ay, open ya damn eyes before I do it myself!” He sounded like he was almost boasting. When he opened his eyes blearily, the man retreated to his table. A knife glinted from his pocket.

It scared him enough to hold his eyes wide open.

It would be a long night ahead of him. Every few minutes, he’d tug on the rope to see if it had loosened. Every time he managed to pull it lose, it inched back up his skin as if it were alive. There was no point even trying with his legs. Cigarette man snickered.

“You’re not gonna get out.” He said, huffing out a plume of smoke through his nostrils. “Idiot.”

His wrists burned.

The man slapped his cards down onto the table, puffing into the night. The lantern flickered along the white walls, and his figure loomed as a grey shadow. He was quite enthusiastic about his card game, each slam shaking the flame.

What if it didn’t go well in Kazakhstan? Others had been killed for doing what he’d done. He may have been away by legitimate means, but that didn’t matter. He hadn’t fought. The King would hardly be happy with that. He could be killed. Public execution.

If not that, then the labor camps. There would be a need for some atonement.

What if that had been the last time he saw Yuri?

The last time, the sight of him at the trees beside Delilah. His heart ached at that possibility. How was he supposed to live his life normally after experiencing so much, after seeing all that he’d seen? How was anything supposed to be normal after that? Living without Yuri, it’d be like living without taste, or living without sight.

Why did it feel like this had been building up inside him for so long? It was only stronger now. Visible.

His life, in retrospect, had been awful before Yuri. With no means of comparison before, other than what he had seen as a child, he hadn’t minded. It had just been the way of the world. The means of living. Life and death, like joy and pain, were synonymous.

But Yuri…

Nothing had ever made him feel like he was worth anything like he had. No longer was he willing to throw this gift away on gods and kings.

There was a scuffling at the entrance to the tent, and the Cigarette man’s head looked up. It was too late for anyone to come calling.

Someone in a hood peaked in, opening the flap.

“Ay, who’s there?” Said the man, pulling the cigarette from his lips.

“Ah, I’ve-” The figure fumbled for a moment, tugging at the hood. Otabek’s heart leapt.

Lithe, pale hands hung out the long dark green sleeves. A sharp chin poked out over the side, and then they turned.

Green eyes.

Nothing else mattered now.

Yuri’s eyes moved quickly, flickering over his body, to his tied hands and feet. Those hands clenched on the material, eyes sharpening to points. He swallowed. Time seemed to hang, just for a moment as their eyes met across the tent.

Yuri turned, trembling.

“The, commander wants to see you.” Said Yuri. He took in a deep breath, relaxing his hands.

“Oh yeah?” Said Cigarette man. He grinned with teeth, only teeth. “What for?”

He almost wanted to shout across the room, but anything could give it away. All Otabek could do was wait for him to make a move. Yuri was on his own.

“How am I supposed to know?” Said Yuri, pulling the hood tighter. “He just told me to come get you.”

The man paused, leaning back on his chair. Slapping down his cards on the table, he stood. “Alright,” he said, grinning. “Alrighty, watch this bitch, will ya?” He staggered out of the tent, a trail of smoke marking his wake.

“Sure,” said Yuri behind gritted teeth. He watched the tent flap open, close, the sound of quiet footsteps fading to black.

Yuri pulled off his hood, heavy lines under his bright eyes. He leapt forward, wrapping his arms tight around Otabek’s middle, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss into the cold skin of his neck, then to his lips. It was full of teeth, sharp and furious, but it was real, and it was Yuri.

“Are you okay?” Asked Yuri, threading his fingers into his hair. “I’m going to get you out, gods.” He leaned back, pulling hard on the rope.

“I’m fine, just help me.” Pain sparked up his forearms, and he bit back a wince. “I tried to get back to you.”

“I know, I know. I came as fast as I could. Fuck, this is magic!” Said Yuri, pulling one last time before leaning back. “Shit, Otabek, I can’t get this off!”

“Try,” Said Otabek, drawing in a breath. Yuri’s shoulders shook. “Try anything!”

“We don’t have time!” Hissed Yuri. He peaked behind him, standing up. “I don’t know how to get you out!”

“He’ll be back soon,” said Otabek, closing his eyes. “Leave, before he gets back!”

“I’m not going to fucking leave you!” Said Yuri, hands coming up to grip his blonde hair. “Are you serious?!”

“We can come up with a better plan!”

“We don’t have time for a better plan!” Said Yuri, looking around the room frantically. He pulled the lantern from the table, grabbing his own pale, silver knife. “I’ll cut it off you. I think I can do this!”

“Go!”

Yuri’s fingers trailed black ink, flickering on the metal. He held the knife over the flame, fingers sparking green. As Yuri cut the rope, he could feel the heat on his skin. It was hot enough to burn.

“Shit, shit.” He whispered. “Shit, oh gods, it’s not coming off!”

“Fuckin’ knew it,” said a voice, and the smell of smoke filled the room.

“Yuri!” He said, as hands quickly pulled Yuri back to the ground. The man pulled back, kicking Yuri hard across the back. “No, please!”

“Ya thought I was that stupid?” He said, snorting, pulling out his own knife. Yuri struggled, kicking back against him, but the man leant his knee into Yuri’s back. “You’re both stupid.”

Yuri spat curses, struggling, trying to push up from the ground to get a hit in. The Cigarette man pressed his head into the grass, glaring. Otabek’s stomach recoiled, anger welling up in him with nowhere to go.

“Ya think I’m going to trust any old fuck that wants to walk in here? Uh uh,” he said, crunching his teeth to the tobacco.

“Let him go!” Said Otabek. “He hasn’t done anything!”

“Eh? Really?” Said the man, snorting. “He tried to let ya go, I aint buying it!” He leaned down, pressing his knee in harder. “Who do we have here, then?”

“Bastard!” Snarled Yuri, loosening his arm from underneath him, trying to grab him, but the man pushed him down.

“Hey, hey,” He said, pulling out his knife. The sight of it against Yuri’s pale skin was perhaps the most revolting thing he had ever seen. “I’ll kill you, so shut ya mouth!” He sighed, leaning closer. “Now, who are you?”

Yuri bit his lip.

“Alrighty,” Said the Cigarette man. “We’re doing this the hard way then.” He held the knife at Yuri’s neck, and began to tug at the cloak.

“No!” Said Otabek, shuffling. He needed to stop this. There needed to be something he could do! Yuri’s eyes flashed with fear as the man cut away at the material.

“What the hell are ya hiding?” Muttered the man, pulling the cloth away. “I thought I felt somethin’ weird when…” He gasped, stilling. “Oh fuck-“

It only took a moment’s distraction, the flash of wings. The wings, quivering in the open air. The man’s eyes were electric. It only took a moment’s distraction for Otabek to latch his teeth to the man’s pulse. He had managed to lunge just right, able to pull himself up for just the right moment. Blood filled his mouth, warm soft skin in contrast to the sharpness of his bite. It was almost easy to drive it in.

He screamed, turning, smashing his elbow into Otabek’s shoulder, dislodging him. The cigarette flew out of his mouth, the flame dying on damp grass. His head hit the ground, hard, sending spirals across his vision. Now his back was turned to Yuri. Their eyes connected, and they acted in unison.

Yuri leaned to grab at his shoulder. Realizing his mistake, the Cigarette man quickly faced him, but Yuri pushed him back, squeezing his wrist. The other came to his mouth, halting his screech. The hand on his wrist went tight.

And then they twisted around his arm.

The flesh crumbled at his touch, the cigarette man’s face widening open into primitive scream as his arm cracked under the strong grasp. Yuri’s eyes burned into him, teeth on teeth. Angular cheekbones, thin and so full of anger, shrill and poised and absolutely ready for the blood that spilt between the cracks. He only leaned into it, pushing his hands in deep. Black on red on green on skin on bones on cracks and mud.

He could only watch as the arm fell apart. Yuri’s wings beat hard, only pushing him further into the man. This was cruel, twisted. The dried mud clinked as it landed on the ground, sending up foul smelling dust. Otabek’s heart sank, down, down. Only further down.

Visceral and raw, the terrifying look in Yuri, it made him recoil. Green light, soft and warm, was now horrible and sickening. Anger that wasn’t his own reached up in him, but the images, his thoughts, his feelings. He had been longing to close his eyes before, when the cigarette man had been alive, and Yuri hadn’t killed anyone.

Why wouldn’t his eyes close?

Yuri’s hand over the man’s mouth had crumbled straight through, and he pulled back. Cigarette man’s limbs that’d been seized in panic were limp and relaxed against his side.

Mud.

Mud, thick as clay, dark and dull, clinked on the table. Dry dust over the cards, on Yuri’s clothes. Blood covered both hands.

Tainted.

It came up to his hands, the other up to his elbow. In ruins, blood oozed from the cracked skin of his shoulder. Spindly fingers in sticky red wiped on the grass. Yuri swept his hair out of his eyes, a smear of the stuff on his cheek. Cold, and feral.

 **Mud**.

No, this was different.

The smell of iron, and mold.

Vomit soaked the grass, and red fingers held him up so he didn’t choke in it. Spots covered his vision, and he heaved on the air, thick and sluggish. Arms wrapped around him, holding him together, gathering him up and smoothing out the cracks.

His own face was twisted in horror. Sweat broke and prickled at his skin, and he couldn’t even support himself. The rope pulled tight at his wrists. Shivers moved down his shoulder blades fast enough to knock the breath out of him.

“Yuri,” He choked, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Don’t look!” Said Yuri, his voice shuddering. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“ Fingers pulled back at his hair, warm lips to his temple. The words blended together in the thick air. “Please, we need to leave!”

“I’m…” He said opening his eyes, breathing in deep until the corners of the room were clear again. Yuri’s eyes were wide, youthful. Such contrast, his fingers ran soothingly against his skin. “I’m-“

“We don’t have time,” Said Yuri, hands on either side of his face. “Listen, please,”

“I’m…” The words were gone.

“We only have a few minutes to get out of here!” Said Yuri, shaking. His wings beat in quick motions, and his neck was shining with sweat. “I left Delilah in the woods,”

Delilah.

“Don’t worry,” Said Yuri, standing up slowly. He refused to look at the man, instead leaning over, grabbing his knife. He pulled the large dark grey jacket from the man, pulling it over his own shoulders. The entire right side was red. He slid the knife into the pocket. Then, after a moment of thought, he blew out the lantern. “I’ll carry you.”

He hoisted Otabek up onto his feet, steadying him. With his legs tied together, it would be difficult to move without falling. “I don’t think I can carry you,” Said Yuri, frowning.

“That’s okay,”

“It’s not okay!” Said Yuri. “Just… lean on me, I’ll help you.”

“Yuri,” there was no way that Yuri would be able to carry him. It was dangerous to move slowly. There were always a couple soldiers about as well.

“Don’t argue with me.” Said Yuri, frowning. “I’m not going to come all this way just to let you slip away. I’m not going to do that to you!”

“It’s okay,”

“No, it’s not okay! None of this is okay! Why can’t you see it like I do?!” Said Yuri, warmth flooding his eyes. “I can’t let you go! Can’t you see that?” His fingers went tight over his arm. Even in the dark, he shone like the stars. “I love you.”

Could you really blame him for the tears in his eyes after that?

But the words wouldn’t come for him. They stayed, stubborn as they were. He wanted to say it, he wanted so desperately to say it back. Barely able to stand, hands behind his back. Yuri’s arm came around his middle, and he pulled him up. Why wouldn’t the words come? Three simple words.

 **I love you**.

Yuri didn’t seem to expect an answer. He pointed at the tent flap, getting ready to move.

So, he nodded. He leaned against the fairy. Yuri supported him, pulling him along to the front of the tent. He peaked outside for a moment, then turned back to Otabek. He gave him one last, tight squeeze, before they both steadily stepped out into the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, I need a breather.
> 
> And some coffee.
> 
> Mmm, coffee.
> 
> See you all next chapter!


	15. I have been one acquainted with the night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acquainted with the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this next chapter.

All was quiet out in the cold dark night. Yuri’s hand was skin tight against his waist. They both listened out for any sound.

Had no one heard the screams?

His screams.

Yuri’s hand had crumpled through the man’s face, straight through. How could no one have heard that?

Yuri’s shivered at his side. Otabek could feel his heart through his skin. Sweat pooled in his palms, it could be felt through the thin shirt he wore.

They were silent as death, thin pale quivering shadows in this darkness. The lights twinkled high above, a mat of black with pin pricks of white. It had only been two days, but that was enough to make him long to see this again. The air, unfiltered by the smell of smoke and cloth, filled him. It cooled at his neck, giving him goosebumps.

Yuri looked up at him. He didn’t dare to speak, but he didn’t need to. There was that same, resolute hardness in his eyes. They needed to move.

Yuri almost had to drag him. He was barely able to shuffle, and if he fell, there wouldn’t be anything to stop his fall. Yuri was stronger than he had imagined, but Otabek could feel the strain. His muscles shook. Feelings that were not his brushed at the edge of his own. Irritation. Anger. Distress. They were from Yuri, possessing that same hesitant, aggressive nature.

They made their way behind the tent. The trees were still far away, the darkness seeping into the cover of the trees. Inviting darkness, yet so far away.

Fear made his stomach tighten.

The sound of crackling fire, of laughing men. They dashed behind a tent, Yuri pulling him along. Their lungs strained, air burning up their throats as they held their breaths for life.

Yuri’s clenched teeth shined in the moonlight.

“Hey,” Said a voice, slurred by beer. “Hey, the fuck you’re doing?”

“Nothin’.” Said the woman, gravelly voice pulling at his skin.

“You’re not doing nothing,” said the man. “Come on, help me.”

Yuri squeezed his eyes shut. He pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders, looking down at Otabek. Worry flooded his system, and he clenched his fingers skintight against the rope. Yuri peaked around the tent.

Fuck, he felt so useless like this.

Yuri snapped back, breathing hard.

“You heard something,” Said the man.

“Nah, it’s probably Dean. Forget about it, he always does this shit.”

“Bitch,” Said the man. “I’m not getting in trouble for this.”

“I don’t care, check it out if you want. Or wake up Victor. I’m not going.”

“I’m going to check.”

Yuri straightened, taunt. The steps only came closer.

 _Five_.

Yuri looped an arm to his side, hoisting him up.

_Four._

They could make it out. They had to make it into the trees, under cover. But the space, the expanse of grass between them and that was overwhelming. His heart thrummed in his chest, sucking air into his lungs as they broke out into a grueling pace that seared his muscles.

_Three._

He couldn’t hear the steps anymore as they rushed into the long grass. Their clothes were soaked in sweat and dew, Yuri’s arm pulling bruises into his skin. There was no doubt that they would have been seen like this.

And from somewhere behind them, the gut retching sound of arrow to string, the quick, smooth way in which it was done, echoed in sound. He didn’t look back, trying, urging his legs to move faster. The sharp twang, as it came flying lose, string snapping against the air like a spark over his vision.

 _Two_.

A shout came from behind, loud, piercing in the dark. Yuri didn’t even turn, hastening his pace if that were ever possible. They were clawing their way out, furiously cutting through everything, limping through thick grass that clung to their legs. His foot had been cut by something, the arch burning with every step.

 _One_.

The sound of arrow to string, could have stopped him. If his legs had been free, he would have stopped them there. He’d have told Yuri to run. He was the prisoner, not Yuri. No one knew who Yuri was. He wasn’t wanted.

He’d have stopped, he’d have gone back. He’d have saved Yuri’s life with his own, a swapping of fates that Otabek would have accepted in a heartbeat.

But Yuri was on a war path. He pulled him along, and it didn’t matter what he thought. Nothing mattered but them, living together or dying, it didn’t need to matter. If Yuri hadn’t done anything, how could Yuri have possibly have lived with that weight on his shoulders.

Yuri had survived after so much. He’d lived with all it, fighting tooth and claw and blood and sweat through everything this awful world had thrust before him. In spite of this world, he had lived, no matter what had tried to snuff him out. He was a flame that refused to die.

He would live.

Yuri could survive anything.

 _Zero_.

The arrow burst through his shoulder, and Yuri’s arms around his slackened. He dropped to the ground with a hard thud, pain echoing through his chest, through the vine into his veins, but it was nothing in comparison. Yuri screamed, clutching at his arm. Blood began to run down his grey jacket, red, awful red. He gasped, sucking in air painfully fast through his lungs, eyes flaring, flickering.

“Yuri,” he cried, shuffling forward. Yuri cried, thick, throaty cries. He stared at the arrow head poking through his shoulder, like he could hardly even believe it was there, that it was real, that it was happening to him. Almost in a frenzy, he grabbed at the shaft, tugging at it hard.

“Don’t!” Shouted Otabek, but it was far too late. Yuri bawled, a fresh wave of blood coating his fingers. He panted against the grass like an animal, pain immobilizing him. He needed to put pressure on that wound, but there was no time, and Yuri needed to leave. Otabek could hear the rush of soldiers approaching, and there was no chance in hell he was going to let them in.

“Yuri, block it out!” He said, the mellow green flicker of Yuri’s eyes his only response. “Yuri, focus on me, please!”

**_It hurts!_ **

“I know, but we need to leave!” He couldn’t die like this. Yuri didn’t deserve to die like this. “You need to keep going!” Anger, unwanted bitter anger filled his chest. “Yuri, go!”

**_I’m going to kill them all!_ **

“Please, there are too many!” He said, and then his own tears began to fall. “You can’t kill them all.”

**_I’ll prove you wrong._ **

“Leave!”

**_And I’ll turn them all to dust._ **

“You’re not strong enough.” That was the last thing he deserved to hear right now. Yuri sobbed into him, clutching him closer. Gripping him hard enough that they’d never need to leave each other. His words were incoherent, but his thoughts were clear.

**_I’m going to save you._ **

“Then you need to save yourself first!” The soldiers were getting closer now, he could hear them roaring. Yuri could hear them too. He shook as he stood, pale faced and soaking wet. His eyes drove stakes into Otabek’s. The echo Yuri’s pain could be felt in his own arm.

Let him think that. Let him believe it with all his soul, and that would be enough. It would have to be enough for him to save himself.

“I’ll-“

“Go! Why won’t you just listen to me for once!” He said, pleading, begging.

With something deep and wretched, he looked. He leaned down, shuddering as he kissed Otabek’s cheek. His lips lingered, and pulled away much too fast.

“I’m not going to leave again.”

The world dropped down underneath him as Yuri adjusted his jacket carefully, standing in wait for the rush of soldiers, and the rush of blood. Fingers curling black at the joints, he pulled himself up, and in quiet defeat, lifted his palms up.

**_I’ll kill every last one._ **

The thunderous roars of men surrounded him on the grass. They were on him in a second, voices dying down when they saw him lying there, helpless. Yuri perched above him, writing flying down his hands, gathering in his fingers. A boiled, soppy grey that cooled at the tips. His palms were patched with it. Yuri twitched violently, blocking Otabek’s body with his own. The stares dug in, hard and sharp. Useless, just fucking useless.

They were surrounded.

There was no escape from this.

His eyes began to prickle.

He should have prevented this.

He couldn’t see Yuri’s face, but pure, unfiltered terror swept through them both, shaking him to his core. Yuri shot arm fell limp against him, and he held it tight with the other one.

This couldn’t possible happen to them?

Why did he have to be caught? Why couldn’t Yuri have just listened to him?! It didn’t have to happen like this! They could have survived without the traps for a while, they could have made it a few more days, and not run into the army. All it took were a series of unfortunate events after another, and now they were here. It was entirely preventable. Yuri looked ready to lash out at anything, and there was nothing he could say or do to stop it.

Gods, there was nothing. Nothing!

Nothing but watch as his world came crumbling down around him.

The crowd parted, Victor and Yakov stepping out into the scene. Victor wouldn’t meet his eyes, looking straight onto the lanky figure that stood over him.

Yuri was ready to **_tear this one’s face in_**.

His thoughts were so mangled in with Yuri’s now, he could barely tell what was his own anymore. He was clutched right to Yuri, close to where their thoughts mashed into one. There was it, the dizziness, the ground floating out from under him. It all swept away, another window opening him up, breathing in. The pull of his soul, and the pressure of another’s side by side to his own. As if in tandem, he leaned into it, filtering his fingers through everything else.

And in a moment, it clicked. They snapped together, as if it was almost meant to be like that this entire time.

He could see light that wasn’t his own. He could see more than just what his own eyes gave him. With an ease he hadn’t known before, he could watch.

Yuri grimaced, fingers sparking. _Fuck, all these bastards deserved to be put in the ground._ Why did this intrusion feel almost natural? He didn’t even leap at the voice. It was closer than before. A two-way connection that sent sparks up his spine. Or was that Yuri’s?

_Shut up. Which one should I look out for?_

The elf towards over the others, tall and lean. Victor was dangerous. The best bow man the army had. There was no doubt it was him who had launched that arrow that pulsed in his shoulder. He glared straight into his eyes. That blue was overwhelming. He wanted to cut it to pieces. Victor’s fingers were hidden behind his back, the other on his sword.

Yakov’s face twitched, and he glared. The men went silent around them, a circle of dead noise. The rest hadn’t been here very long, he hadn’t recognized most of them. New and fresh, this batch wouldn’t have ever seen Yakov like this.

His rage was refined, to a razor-sharp point that set all the creatures on edge. Otabek wouldn’t have been surprised if even the birds in the sky fell into line at the sight.

“You took that jacket.” Said Yakov, shaking his head. A man to the side scowled, hand over his blade.

“No I didn’t,” Said Yuri, clenching his fingernails to his palms.

“That was Gregory’s.” Said Victor, stepping forward. “It is rather distinctive.” His other hand came out, palm up. “Hand it over.”

Yuri bit his lip, glaring.

Victor looked down at him, eyebrow slightly raised. The others looked ready to pounce on him at a moment’s notice.

Son of a bitch!

Fine, he’d cooperate.

He shifted, carefully moving the side away from the fletch. He trembled. It was lodged into the bone. The feather was sticky with his blood. Watching the elf with one eye, he shrugged it off his shoulders. Hands from behind him came out to grab the jacket.

They flared out behind him, stretching out in the moonlight. The gasps were audible, and the jacket the one had held dropped.

Once more, he had a moment to act.

His hand reached forward, sizzling with green as fingers darkened with words leaned into flesh. The words built up on his skin, hate, anger, loathing, and mud. They stacked up on the tips of his fingers, and they needed to be relieved. He would feel immense satisfaction as soon as this asshole was turned to mud!

But his hand wasn’t even able to touch flesh, his wrists pulled up into the sky, thumbs pressing into his pulse. They were face to face, light blue eyes burning into green. His stomach plummeted, wings flaring out in panic. The elf, why the fuck did he have that face? Disappointment? Sadness? He choked, heart slamming into his ribs. Those thumbs, printing, flowing in, slowing his system.

And as if it had never been, it snapped.

Otabek breathed in, blinking. Yuri held onto his wrists panting, “No, no!” as he flexed his fingers. “What did you do!?” He screamed, looking up at the elf, who couldn’t be looking at him more pitifully. Two bright blue marks were stained into Yuri’s skin. The dark grey ink was dragged into this whirlpool, sucking in all trace of the words.

Yuri’s voice was gone. His presence was gone, a blank space where he had once occupied it.

“Fuck, take it off!” Cried Yuri, scratching at the marks. He pressed against them desperately, and when they became no more pale, he stopped, looking around himself frantically. The men around him shuffled uncomfortably, eying him as though he were a screaming, petulant child.

“I’m not going to take them off.” Said Victor, shaking his head.

“Please, take me in, I’ll cooperate!” Said Yuri, pleading. “Please, I’ll do anything, just take it off!” Yuri’s tears began to fall, angry tears that sank into Otabek, who he was still in front of. Protecting, regardless of how it could cost him.

If only he could reach up, and hold him close.

Victor looked down at Otabek, eyes closing for just a second. He turned to Yakov, sighing deeply. He took a moment before turning around, back to the scene behind him. The fairy crying over the human, hands over hands. As if coming to a resolution, he nodded at a pair of soldiers behind them.

The rope was fastened to his wrists before he could get a word out. Yuri wouldn’t go quietly, screaming into the night as they held him tightly. Teeth clenching to teeth as he was pulled away from Otabek.

“You’re going to fucking pay, fucking elf!” Shouted Yuri, trying to shake off his attackers. Victor smirked, shaking his head.

The woman behind him seemed almost in awe, eyes fixed on his wings. They all seemed to be in a state of shock, eyes static as they watched him. A mythical creature come to life, suddenly before their eyes, and they didn’t know how to react. Before, it had almost been distain, and now it was just… confusion. Awe. Static.

In a moment, Victor suddenly seized up, hands and arms twisting into his chest. He cried out, eyes closing, squeezing shut. Yuri huffed, and he only twisted up more. Victor’s eyes went wide with shock. He hadn’t expected this.

He had never fought someone like Yuri in his life.

His own face scrunched up, and edge of teeth peeking out over his lip as the elf curled up even further.

“Stop,” Croaked Victor, turning pale. Yakov rushed over to Victor’s side, murderous. The two holding Yuri held him tighter, unsure.

“Yeah, bitch!” Said Yuri, looking up through stands of yellow hair. “You want to take this away from me? What the hell did you expect, huh?”

“What is he doing?!” Shouted Yakov, turning Yuri. “What the hell are you doing?”

“He’s- trying to overwhelm- ugh!” He cried out, trembling. From his own palms, black marks were seeping up, further up to his neck. “I can’t-“. The words crowded around his pulse, grey and dirty like soot.

Then Victor closed his eyes, and fell limp to the grass.

The ropes around Otabek’s arms and legs went loose.

“Victor!” Said Yakov, holding his collapsed soldier in his arms.

“Yeah, stupid elf!” The crowd of men became restless, swords at the ready. There was a roar of noise, angry men calling as the few that were close rushed over to the fallen elf. The man behind Yuri pulled out his sword, pressing it tightly against the struggling fairy. Yuri paused, gritting his teeth.

“Should I kill him, Commander?” Said the voice made of steel. These men were angry. They’d kill them both in a heartbeat. Yuri held his breath. The blade rested just over his Adams apple, poised for blood.

“Quiet!” Said Yakov. He felt Victor’s neck, leaning close. Ear over his mouth, listening for breathing. “He’s alive, take him back to the village.”

“Should I kill him?” Repeated the man, pressing it in hard. Yuri yelped, stilling completely. Yakov stared, considering. His eyes flickered over to the wings, trapped behind the arms that were tightly clasped behind his back.

“No, no.” Said Yakov, sighing deeply. He rubbed his brow, and for a moment seemed in complete turmoil. “No, you can’t kill him.” He stood up, watching the men lift Victor, and take him away. “We need to take him to the capital.”

He was pulled up from the ground, and dragged away with the rest. Exhausted, and destitute.

 

* * *

 

**End of Part 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to thank everyone who had been on this journey so far! I will be taking a little break, about two weeks, so you shouldn't miss me for too long! I've made a tumblr page with the help of a few friends, so if you want to contact me while I'm on this little hiatus, please do so at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/stone-heart-of-gold.
> 
> I would absolutely love to hear from you all, from suggestions to what I should write, to what you think about what I've done so far. I hope that you will enjoy what is to come, and I know I will love writing it!
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts! I will also be editing previous chapters in this break, and hopefully getting some writing done so I'm not as behind next time.
> 
> See you all soon, in Part 2!


	16. 'Hope' is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul. And sings the tune without the words, and never stops—at all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days can be cut into clear segments. For most, morning, afternoon, and evening. Otabek cut his days in two. Each day had two sides. He was left alone for the most part, other than the two shouting matches his commander held in the courtyard and the three times when he saw Yuri. So he could cut his ten days into twenty clean chunks.
> 
> Awake and asleep.
> 
> If there was one thing that could truly drive him to madness it would be the boredom. He’d sit in the same, stationary position for hours, listening out beyond the tent for some form of mental distraction.
> 
> And now he had two guards watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy Part 2!

There was no time to wake up before he was pulled from the ground. Groggy, barely standing, hands pulled on his shoulders.

When had he fallen asleep? The night had dragged on till day, and even then he didn’t close his eyes. The sun burned his eyes through white sheets, and he welcomed it. Anything that would keep him awake, to stop this awful itch. That he had failed, although everything else screamed at him that he couldn’t have done anything. Otabek had done everything possible.

But all at once, he hadn’t. He’d failed. He couldn’t have saved Yuri, with all of his experience, with everything he had learned. With all the blood on his own hands, he couldn’t keep Yuri from that dirt. Now they were both filthy.

His eyes wouldn’t close.

His body shouted another command. The sleep tug on his eyelids, pulling, hard. It wouldn’t let him rest. If he could just keep his eyes open, if he would just hang on to that edge for long enough, then perhaps that pressure could be lessened. The cut on his foot he had ignored stung like mad. He had only noticed once it had starting to throb. Fatigue dug at his eyes, pressing in like fingers for him to rest his eyes, for him to sleep.

Was Yuri getting medical attention? There had been so much blood, and it wasn’t until the light of day that he had seen how much of it had gotten into his clothes.

Those wounds didn’t heal easily. If was going to be a matter of chance if he could still use his arm, if it didn’t get infected. That thought ran through his mind, tangling his other thoughts in its storm.

Yuri’s eyes squeezing shut, his responding scream coiling in Otabek’s chest. How hard had he cried as  it ripped at the flesh of his shoulder?

And now, with those marks on his wrists, blue stains on white skin, he couldn’t use his magic to heal it himself. It didn’t matter if he’d have to spend the rest of his life fueling that vine, giving it energy. It wasn’t worth his life. But there was nothing he could do now.

Otabek hated relying on the compassion of others, especially now. When those were the same people who shot Yuri, who tied them both up, and had pulled them away. But if he had the opportunity, he’d beg to see him. Dignity was hardly worth anything anymore. Dignity was cheap. How many more days would he have to shit with someone holding a sword over him? He’d happily give up his pride if it came to that.

Fuck, he’d kill if he’d have to.

The vine in his chest sat uncomfortably in his skin.

It was as if someone, or something had died inside him. Heavy hearted, a constant lump in his throat.

Without that weight with him, he felt light, and flighty. As if his heart were hanging without support. Like it could drop out of him at any moment.

And that vine was killing him. Impossibly loose, and unresponsive. It didn’t respond to anything anymore. Sitting dead in his chest. Would that be okay? It had been months. Surely it would have been fine. It wouldn’t rot inside of him. It wouldn’t.

Who was he fooling but himself?

What could he do anyway? Cut it out? Even if that would work, where the fuck would he get a knife? How would he sterilize it? How could he untie the ropes? How would he stop the bleeding? How deep did the vine even go? He could feel it, it had dug deeper as time had passed. It had wrapped around his ribs, pressing on his lungs, twisting against his heart, curling in his veins. Like toxin, it had seeped into his body, mixing with his blood with uneasy ease.

How long would it be until it started to poison him?

Otabek didn’t want to think about that sort of thing.

He didn’t want to think.

He wouldn’t think.

He refused.

 

*

 

Otabek saw Yuri three times before they were loaded into the carriage and taken back to Kazakhstan. Each time, it had offered him a glimmer of hope, just hovering underneath his breath, before pulling the rug out and knocking him to the floor.

The first two times, it had been one sided. The last was mutual, panicked words whispered behind ears, the smell of unwashed skin, and long nails cutting moon shaped marks into his palms.

But first, Yakov.

Otabek respected Yakov. There had hardly been a better commander. He displayed both strength and mercy when it was required. There was something about him that made you want to pay attention. He wasn’t charming within the realms of any society, but he demanded a certain amount of respect just by his presence that no one questioned; there was no reason to suspect that he didn’t deserve that respect.

And that was good, because the new tent in which he was confined to was right next to the clearing. He could listen to the man talk to the soldiers. Otabek didn’t doubt that this had been done intentionally. Or perhaps it had just been chance.

“No one,” he shouted over the crowd. “Is allowed the approach the new prisoner!” the courtyard went silent. Otabek could hear the whistling of the wind through the trees.

“I’ve been hearing some rumors recently.” Said Yakov. “Something about someone having a vested interest in this particular individual.” He stressed the words, a frown buried in the tone. “Allow me to tell you all that that is wrong. None of you should concern yourselves with this.”

“What is he talking about?” Said a high voice close to his tent, shuffling forwards.

“Shut up!” Replied the other, grumbling.

“I am sure that most of you are aware that we are in the company of a fairy. Yes, she killed one of our own, but that is no excuse to get anywhere near her. Any interference will cost you. So don’t even think about it.”

“Fucking bitch,” said another. Otabek breathed out, evenly. This was least of his problems. It was fine if they didn’t see him as a man. It might even prevent them from hurting him anymore.

No, it wasn’t fine. He bit his lip gently, closing his eyes. It wasn’t fine, but it would have to be. With his long hair, and feminine features, no wonder they had gotten confused.

Or was Yakov doing this deliberately?

“If anyone of you are even seen near the tent, I will personally send you back to Kazakhstan in pieces. This is my only warning.” Said Yakov, clearing his throat. Whoever had been talking before had finally shut their mouth. Murmurs went quiet as death. That had gotten their attention completely.

And Otabek let out a sigh of relief. Yakov would keep his word.

“So I would suggest that you stay as far away as possible from that area as you can. And please refrain from mentioning the incident outside of camp until we have further information. Now,” he said, clapping his hands. “Due to a few delays, we will be leaving in ten days.” A loud groan echoed from the group, and Otabek could almost feel Yakov glaring through the material. “I’m sure you all had plans, but things have changed. Find something to do with the time that you have before we go. I will not be waiting for stragglers.”

Ten days.

Ten days.

 

*

 

Days can be cut into clear segments. For most, morning, afternoon, and evening. Otabek cut his days in two. Each day had two sides. He was left alone for the most part, other than the two shouting matches his commander held in the courtyard and the three times when he saw Yuri. So he could cut his ten days into twenty clean chunks.

Awake and asleep.

If there was one thing that could truly drive him to madness it would be the boredom. He’d sit in the same, stationary position for hours, listening out beyond the tent for some form of mental distraction.

And now he had two guards watching him.

He watched them long enough that he began to notice their strange quirks. Like how Mila almost always never seemed to make eye contact with him. She’d joke around, she’d smile, but she couldn’t even look at him.

The other, a man he didn’t know the name of, had a twitch in his cheek. The left cheek jumped every once and a while, and he’d try to stop it with his hand, but there was no stopping it. It leapt up, pulling the edge of his mouth into an unusual smile.

And then, of course, the three times in which he saw Yuri. Those moments were precious to him, little golden slivers of hope that he stuffed in his pocket and prayed to everything that he wouldn’t snuff it out by holding on. His face, his hair, everything was a reminder than it could still be okay. Those green eyes settling in his chest, perhaps that is what kept him on the right side of sanity.

On that dark damp night, with the bond between them broken, barely able to think much less stand, he was taken away after Yuri. The hands on his own were strong enough to break his fingers. Otabek watched Yuri being pulled away through his sweat soaked hair, wings flickering as he screamed out to the stars.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” He growled, blonde hair sticking to his face. “Don’t you dare come near him!” Hands hoisted him up, and Otabek breathed out at the pain. That was too tight, far too tight for comfort. Yuri seethed, kicking back at his captors.

“It’s going to be fine!” He said, and the one behind him began to move them forward. Away from Yuri. “Please, just stay-“

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Screamed Yuri, reeling. The woman behind his was leaning directly on his wings, fingers so close to the edge. She raised an eyebrow, holding his wrists.

“Stay calm!” He yelled, twisting his head.

“Get off!” Cried Yuri, tears streaming.

“I’ll see you again! I’ll find you again!” He promised, but how could Yuri hear him with how he was thrashing?

He was forced away, back to the tent. Back to the body.

The man holding him foamed at the mouth.

“Commander!” He shouted back.

Ropes looped around his hands.

The older man rushed into the room. He took a moment to compose himself, leaping away from the body, closing his eyes. Then he leaned forward, reaching forward to touch the crumbling flesh. It turned to dust in his hands.

“What the hell is that?” Said his captor.

“I’ve seen this before,” Said Yakov, standing up. “I haven’t seen this in a while.” Yakov sighed, eyes turning to coal. He rubbed at the dark marks under his eyes. “Goddamn it, if this night couldn’t get any worse…” He looked down at Otabek, frowning. “And I thought you’d have been the one to kill him.”

He stayed silent. What could he have said?

The first time was by far the worst.

He was allowed out to relieve himself, and they were walking past a tent to the far side of the courtyard. A shout came from the tent, and a man rushed out, frantic.

“Can you come help?” He cried, pointing behind him at the open tent. One of his guards ran forward, into the fray.

There he was, just lying on the floor. Passed out, breathing fast. Otabek slowed his pace. The tent flap was open. A women on his right, and a man to his left. His pink nose was scrunched up in pain, but he wasn’t moving. He twitched as they hovered over his wound.

The arrow sat beside him, blood turning black over the wood. The arrowhead was missing.

Yuri didn’t scream as the women reached into his shoulder, but Otabek almost did. Acid shot through his throat, and he gagged as she tugged. Yuri’s arm jolted, jerking upwards, then stilling. She clutched her shiny, red reward in her fingers, holding it up for the man beside her to see. The arrow head, sharp in her palm. Blood began to gush from Yuri’s shoulder.

The man beside her pressed a cloth upon the joint, and Otabek needed to look away. His heart beat in his ears.

What if that was it?

What if he died?

He couldn’t even entertain that thought.

That face haunted him. Pale and sweat-shook. Still and shivery on the floor. That night, he demanded to see him, much to the dismay of Mila and the other man.

“Please,” he said, and his fingers became clammy and cold. The ropes had been taken off, but the marks were still there, pale dark blue circled on his wrists. He absentmindedly rubbed at them with his thumb. “Please, just… tell me if he’s okay.” Mila crossed his arms, and gave him a painful look.

“I thought it was a she.”

“He’s not.” He said, pressing particularly hard against a dark area on his skin.

“Otabek, I-“ she said, voice cracking. “I can’t do that.”

“Just check on him.” He said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Or ask someone else.”

“I- I don’t think I can-“

“Do what you can,” He protested, shaking his head. “It’ll only take a minute, please, Mila.” He looked up at her. “Do something, please! Don’t deserve to know?”

She looked away.

“I’ll try.” She said, frowning. “But no promises. You heard what Yakov’ll do.”

“Ask someone then.”

“I don’t know what I can do, Otabek.” She grumbled, sitting down on her chair. “I want to help you, believe me I do, but I don’t think there’s much I can do at this point. Especially, after everything….” She trailed off, tapping her fingers nervously against her leg. “So… a fairy, huh?” She said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought they were all dead.”

“They’re not.”

“How’d you meet him?”

“That’s a long story.”

“Tell me, I’m bored.” She said, leaning forward on her elbows.

“No.”

She sighed, rocking back and forth on her heels for a moment. “Well, you clearly care about each other.”

“Hmm.”

“You must be pretty close.”

He looked at her from behind his hands, opening his eyes.

“Why would a fairy ever trust a human though? I mean, sure, there were good people. But most just let it happen. You know.” Her eyes were wide. “It seems kinda weird. How he protected you, I swear, it looked like he was going to rip us up. Not that he could, but still.” She shrugged. “What happened between you two?”

Why was she prying? Her curiosity was infuriating. Otabek rolled over, cracked his neck, and closed his eyes.

She didn’t ask him again.

 

*

 

The second time. The least upsetting sight he could have at that moment. The second time stabilized him. For context, this happened around day five. Otabek hadn’t seen Yuri for five days, the last being when he had seen him on the floor, unresponsive.

Those five days stretched on forever. Mila, of course, hadn’t found out anything. Whoever had been taking care of the wound was tightlipped.

He was starting to panic.

Enough that he was given another small glimpse.

“I’ll just show you,” she said, dragging him upwards. “Only for a minute though.”

It was late in the night. She pulled him along, the other one behind her. The damp grass felt good on his legs.

“He’s finally sleeping,” she said, huffing. “I have to give this note to someone. I’ll let you see in, but don’t come close.” Mila held her finger up to his face, furrowing her brow playfully. “Stay quiet, because I don’t want to get in trouble for doing this! Besides, you need to piss anyway, right? Might as well do both in one shot.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled, and her fingers were warm against his own. She squeezed back gently, eyes twinkling. “Thank you.”

She turned to the man beside her, and frowned. “You too. Don’t tell.”

He shrugged. “Hey, I’m just following orders, right?” She’d slip a few cigarettes into his pocket later the next day.

 

*

 

The air swelled up around him, and he took it all in.

The redness wasn’t entirely gone, dusting his nose and ears, but it was gentle, and faded. So much unlike the splotchy red of before. His shoulder was wrapped in bandages, but his wings weren’t flaring out, no glowing. He had curled up underneath a blanket, wings poking out from the sides of his shoulders. The moonlight trailed his soft cheeks, small breaths brushing against his hair. His hands were laced together, curling up in his chest.

Otabek breathed for the first time in days.

Mila nodded at the woman, holding out a letter.

“Just a precaution, alright?”

“Yes, of course!” Said Mila, snorting. She waited for a moment, allowing him a second more before closing the tent.

Yuri’s sleeping image was able to keep him going for a couple days, before the thoughts would start to eat him alive again.

 

*

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Said Yakov, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. The soldier nodded, quickly. He shuffled his feet, nervous, jumpy.

“He’s not eating.”

“He? Fuck,” sighed Yakov, and the frown only added to his wrinkles hardened in his features. “Damn it, I thought we wouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“He has demands.” Said the soldier, checking his pockets frantically.

“Demands?” He said, incredulous. “Demands? Who the hell does he think he is?”

The soldier bit his lip, straightening as though a sword had been shoved up along his spine. He looked back up in panic, straightening. “Uh,”

“Don’t you remember what he said then?” Said Yakov, grumbling through his palms. The soldier’s throat bobbed.

“Uh, he wants to see the- uh- first prisoner.”

“Otabek.”

“Yes.” He said, nodding vigorously.

You can see he was trying to place his words very carefully. He looked down at Otabek, then back up to the sky (possibly in prayer) then back to the soldier.

“Fine,” he muttered. “If he doesn’t eat, then what choice do we have?”

 

*

They took him there on the seventh day.

In the dusk of the evening, the sun setting over the trees, they lifted him up, and took him to that tent at the edge.

He held his breath, the cloth pulling back to reveal Yuri.

“Go on,” grumbled Yakov, pulling off the rope. “Convince him to eat.”

He barely hesitated before rushing over to him.

“Yuri,” he cried, brushing a lock of greasy yellow hair behind his ear. His cheeks were like paper, a tinge of red. “Yuri, oh gods,” he placed a hand over his forehead, feeling for warmth. Gently, he shook his shoulder, leaning close. “Yuri, I’m here now,” he said, throat beginning to clot.

With the scrunching of his nose, he opened his eyes. His eyes went down to sharp dots, blinking quickly.

“Otabek?” He mumbled, carefully raising his head. Yuri’s eyes went glassy, his arm reaching up to touch the closest part of him, his leg. He broke out a grin, a grin full of tears as they held each other, clinging for dear life.

“Otabek!”

“I’m here, it’s fine.” Yuri’s arms pressed up against the vine, but the pain was hardly worth a damn with Yuri’s arms, Yuri’s body in his arms. Yuri clutching at his skin, trembling with relief. Yuri looked him, over and over and over, blinking. Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Please don’t go,” said Yuri, breathing him in. “Please, please, don’t let go of me.”

He pulled him closer in, careful around the wound. Pulling up his sleeves, Otabek leaned into him, quelling the shivers, as if somehow the skin to skin contact would calm him. He smelled like unwashed skin, with a tinge of blood, but underneath everything the scent of honey set him on fire. He buried his face into Yuri’s shoulder, tears blurring his eyes, and then sinking into the bandages.

“I’ll have to go after this,” he said, brushing Yuri’s hair back. “I can only stay for a while, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“They wouldn’t tell me anything,” mumbled Yuri, choking. “I asked and asked, but they wouldn’t tell me where you went or if you were still alive or-“

“None of that is your fault,” said Otabek, the tears beginning to grip him. “Please, it’s going to be okay.”

“For all I knew they’d killed you,” Yuri went sharp around him, stiffening. “They didn’t tell me anything, so I thought-“

“Don’t think about that!”

“I could barely stand the thought!” Cried Yuri, twisting violently to face him. He touched his cheeks, brushing over his lips with a thumb. “Of course I couldn’t stand that thought!” Yuri’s fingers traced his ears, and the tears tracked white lines down his dirty face. He grinned shakily, a melancholy glee that crept up his teeth before spilling over his cheeks. “I’m so happy to see you again!”

Otabek grinned, unstoppable when they embraced again. Yuri rubbed the tears back, damp laughter bubbling up from inside him. It was a relief, and release that flowed and flowed in and endless stream, and if all there was left to do in the world was this, and if they were alone in this tent, then he could be content enough to accept this, but…

He wanted to kiss those lips, to hold him as long as he would be permitted, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Yakov’s eyes were burning into his neck, and there was nothing he could do but eventually pull away from Yuri.

“Yuri, I don’t have a lot of time,” he said, lacing their fingers together, imagining pressing kisses into the fingertips.

“I don’t care about them.” Hissed Yuri, spine sharpening. “I don’t give a fuck about what the hell they think. I don’t care anymore, just don’t leave me!”

“I know,” Said Otabek. “I know, but you need to listen to me.” Yuri’s eyes narrowed as a tray with food was brought in and placed beside him. Yuri turned his head. “Yuri,” said Otabek, his thumb rubbing Yuri’s hand gently. “Yuri, you need to eat.”

“I don’t want to.” He said, frowning. “Not with them here.”

“You have to.” He said, picking up the spoon, stirring the porridge. It didn’t exactly look appealing, grainy and sticky, grey and lukewarm, but it was food. “I’m not going to let you starve to death. Especially now.” Otabek pulled out a spoonful, and held it up. “Come on.”

“I can’t believe they’re making you do this now.” Said Yuri, shaking his head. “Why the hell are you helping them?”

“I’m not helping them,” Otabek sighed, watching Yakov. “Yuri, you can’t wait it out. Not this way. Not like this, okay?” He leaned closer. “That’s not how this works, they’re going to force you to eat regardless.”

Yuri glared at him. This wasn’t a betrayal, this was him surviving. Yuri couldn’t wait it out. They would stuff the food down his throat if they’d have to. The image was sickening. He couldn’t knowingly let that happen.

“Stop being tough.” Said Otabek, holding out the spoon for him. “Eat.”

He opened his mouth, swallowing gingerly. He ate with a hungry edge to him, barely chewing before swallowing. Yuri closed his eyes, brow furrowing. When that bowl was done, Otabek began to feed him from his own plate.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yakov’s shoulders slacken.

“No,” he said to the mild protests, frowning. “No, you haven’t eaten in a while. You were already skinny before, and now,” Otabek poked at his wrist, resisting the urge to kiss it. The stares were still there. Not now. Not with everyone staring. “Now I can see straight through you. You’re so pale.”

Yuri’s fingernails dug into Otabek’s hand.

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

“They look at me like I’m some kind of animal.” Said Yuri, wiping his mouth. He eyed Yakov, glaring. “They don’t stop looking. They keep looking at the wings- it’s not- they-“ he grabbed the mug, drinking deeply, setting it back down on the tray. He sighed, eyes back on Otabek. “It’s not like when you look. I don’t know how to say it.”

"They didn't-" he swallowed. "They didn't touch them, right?"

Yuri shook his head, but bit his lip, hard enough for it to go white. "Only the doctor, but- yeah..." He coughed, taking another bite, chewing. "I made it very clear to her what I thought about that."

At least, that was a small relief

His fingers hovered over Yuri’s cheek, wiping at a smudge of porridge at the corner of his mouth. He lingered for a moment, just over Yuri’s cheekbones, darker, thicker lines underneath his eyes. His skin was dirty, a thin layer of grime and dirt starting to build up.

“Are you okay?” He said softly.

“Do I look okay?” Said Yuri, shaking his head, the smile splitting his face. “I feel like shit. But now that you’re here, I think I feel better.”

“How’s your arm?”

“I said I’m fine!” Said Yuri, looking down. “I’m fine, really. But our bond – it’s just- it’s gone. I had no way to tell if you were alive or anything.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Said Yuri. “I’m worried about you! Why are you acting like this, Otabek?”

“Just worry about yourself now.” Said Otabek, kissing Yuri’s forehead, feeding him another bite. “You need to heal, and you need to eat.”

Yuri sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Don’t kiss me here.” He whispered. “Not in front of them, not while they’re watching.”

Otabek looked over to Yakov, who still sat watching them, silent. It made him tense up.

“I’m not going to,” he promised, running a thumb over his skin. “I won’t.” It wouldn’t stop him from holding Yuri. “I was worried about you. I saw you a couple days ago,” he whispered. “You didn’t look too good.”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“I know, but are you sure?”

“I just thought you were gone.”

“I wouldn’t leave you.” He said, sighing.

“I know.” Said Yuri. “But that doesn’t stop anyone from taking you away from me.” His eyes burned. Otabek was sure that the marks Yuri left on the inside of his palms would be there for days. The time between them was short, and the soldiers behind them were starting to stir.

“Promise me that you won’t do anything.”

“I’m not promising shit!” He grumbled.

“Yuri, please. Just…” The soldier behind him stood up, walking towards them. He panicked, gripping Yuri close. “Just eat. We’ll see each other again,” he hissed into Yuri’s ear, more human hands coming up to grab at his shoulders.

“Otabek!” he began to protest, his fingernails cutting into Otabek’s hand as he was pulled upwards.

“It’s fine.” He said, relaxing his shoulders, nodding at the man. “It’s fine.”

Yuri cursed, once, twice, then he was stood up.

The next three days were spent in silence. Otabek ran his fingers over the moon shaped marks, watching them turn white to red to blue, and he tided over the hours with a vigorous new hope in his chest. If he shut his eyes, he could see green reflecting back at him. And that was all he needed.

 

*

 

“Are you serious?”

How many times had he said that in the last few days? Yakov’s hand was almost permanently affixed to his forehead.

Before him sat the cage that was meant to take them back.

Or, perhaps, a lot less than a cage. Or a lot more.

The carriage was extravagant. Topped with soft red cloth, velvet bolsters and glossy corners, the sides rounding off to red tassels. Inside, the openings had been barred, and there was a large lock clearly placed on the door, but it was jarring beside the expensive looking cushions and smoothed wooden floor.

This. This was their ride to Kazakhstan?

“Who the hell- what the hell is this?” he said, turning to Seung Gil, who shrugged. “Why on earth did you bring this back?”

“It’s not my decision, sir.” Said Seung Gil, raising an eyebrow. “His Grace provided it to us.”

“Who does he think we’re bringing back, royalty?!” He cried, gesturing to the tasseled corners.

“I’m sure His Grace had a reason.” Said Seung Gil, turning coldly. “Should I receive the other one?”

“Good god, this is ridiculous,” Said Yakov. “Yes, get the other one.” He pointed at Otabek, grumbling. “You definitely don’t deserve this.” Yakov pushed him along, dragging him into the carriage. “I can’t believe he sent this, crazy bastard. No wonder it took so long. We’re trying to take attention away, not bring it here, shit.” His ropes were pulled away, the door shut behind him.

It truly was, a bit too much. It was strange, his own dirty body in this clean, plush carriage. His hair was greasy, and he hadn’t bathed in days, but here he was, sitting on velvet and dark red fur.

So please, excuse him for laughing.

He felt it bubble up inside of him, launching out of his lungs like a spring. His eyes prickled, shut, but the tears flowed. The fur brushed up against his bare feet, and he laughed until it went numb.

It was, after all, absolutely ridiculous.

The only time in his life in which he was truly in luxury was at this point, with the marks of a prisoner, and unable to escape. He’d fought his whole life, only to be here once everything had fallen apart.

This was ridiculous, but the laughter when on. He wiped the tears from his eyes, and it came on like a river, and the dirt on his feet came off on the fur.

The door was yanked open, another figure being thrust in before him. The laughter died in his throat, and he looked up at Yuri, who stared back, in as much shock as he felt.

“What- what is this?” Asked Yuri, looking around, leaning on Otabek’s arms.

A sharp look was thrown over at the door, Yakov’s leather face sneering once more, and then it shut again, leaving them both again.

Again, alone, but entirely alone, and all at once together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad I had that little break! I got quite a lot of work done, so I'm pretty happy! This chapter is a little longer than expected, and I was originally going to split it in two, but, eh, you've been waiting two weeks. I'll be merciful today :D
> 
> Also, Emily Dickinson <3 <3! New poet! I love Robert, but I think we need a different sort of feeling for the second part of this!
> 
> If anyone has any ideas or prompts, or just wants to say hello, check me out at (https://stone-heart-of-gold.tumblr.com/)! I'd love to talk to some of you, and I'd love to hear some of your thoughts on what I should do next!
> 
> See you all next time!


	17. The Sunrise, sire, compelleth me. Because he's sunrise, and I see, therefore, then - I love thee.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek accidentally digs his own grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this isn't the most angsty thing I've ever written then I don't know what is. Have fun!
> 
> *thumbs up*  
> DAVAI

They embraced, tight enough for his sides to burn. Otabek kissed his cheek, burying his face in Yuri’s neck. Yuri breathed out, running a hand through Otabek’s hair. Moving it away from his face. They were on the floor now, but it didn’t matter, none of it did. Yuri sat above him, kissing into his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his long arms around Otabek’s neck. Holding him close enough for their air to mingle.

“See,” whispered Otabek. “I told you I’d see you again.”

“Shit, Otabek,” said Yuri, and he sighed, sinking into his arms. “Shit, I was worried. Gods, I was so fucking worried about you.”

“It’s fine now.” He said, kissing his cheek again, and again.

“Otabek, I…” Yuri hesitated, hovering over his mouth. Otabek closed the distance, bringing up a hand to Yuri’s cheek as their lips touched. It didn’t matter what the words were, because it was all the same, and they were together again. His mouth tasted bitter, and Yuri drew him ever closer, aggressively pressing their lips together. Mashed together, Yuri dragging him in, biting and cussing into his mouth. In that way that always made his blood feel thick and heavy.

“Gods, I missed this so much,” said Yuri, and tugged him closer. Yuri’s wings fluttered, no, beat against the air in an excited heated frenzy. He pulled back on his shirt, pale hands pressing up his stomach, rubbing circles into his skin.

Yuri leaned back for a moment, grinning. The world could have been set on fire around them, but that grin would have cured it all. He was dipped, drenched in that cool water, and only wanted more. A soft glow fell around them like a blanket, warm and green, lovingly softening their edges. He reached up, hesitantly brushing a wing.

Yuri laughed gently, the meeting of their lips encouraging him to go further, to touch more, to trail downwards, further, further…

Wait, not here. Not here, not now. There was no one looking, the curtains were closed, and the door had been locked, but they were right there, a wall away.

His blood rose up to his ears, prickling up his skin. The touches, his skin, it was too much. Enough to send his blood rushing places he didn’t want, not here at least. Lungs burning, heart pounding in his chest, he wanted to keep going. He wanted to pull him in, run his hands along those wings until Yuri cried out in his arms, perhaps into other places as well, but his body was screaming for space.

Yuri dragged a hand up his neck, and the pressure was overwhelming. He smelled like unwashed skin, but that wasn’t it. After days of quietness, his heart leapt up in a way it hadn’t been before, a quick panic born from something other than fear. Those hands stroking his cheeks were the same hands that were covered in mud.

Shit, no.

No, this was nice. The way his lips felt were lovely, they were warm. Warm, soft, with occasional bites and clinks of teeth. Only ten days apart, and they were desperate for each other, Yuri eagerly pulling him, dragging him up to his mouth.

Why was he jerking away when this was what he wanted?

He breathed through his teeth, pressing back on Yuri.

Carefully, he eased himself back, taking in heavy deep breaths. Yuri sighed, kissing him again before collapsing into his chest.

“Shit, Otabek.” He said, chuckling. “I… wow.”

“What?”

“That’s so different when I can’t tell what you’re thinking.” Said Yuri, turning into his chest. “I can’t tell what you want. Shit,” he groaned, leaning up on his elbows, lanky arms easing the pressure off of his ribs. Yuri swept the hair out of his eyes, pushing it back. “Shit.”

“Shit?”

“Shit.” Concluded Yuri, snorting. His leaned back, sitting on his knees over his hips. He looked around, grimacing. His face darkened. “Where the hell are we?”

Otabek shrugged, shuffling back. Yuri stood up, reaching for the door. He yanked it, once, twice, but it didn’t budge. He almost growled, kicking at it again before he turned.

“This isn’t normal.”

“I know.” Said Otabek, sitting down on the soft pillowed. He frowned. “I thought we would be taken back in a wagon. But I suppose…” he said, watching Yuri as he paced around the small carriage, peaking around the curtains, toes curling in the fur carpet. His wings nearly brushed against the ceiling. “It must have been your wings.” They shifted, tightening against Yuri’s back. “They can’t exactly inform the world that you are here.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “As if the soldiers won’t spread it around. You think those dumbasses are going to keep their mouths shut.”

Yuri was hesitant, pressing the cushions hesitantly with a finger before sitting down. “Why…?” He said, looking around. He squinted, brushing his palms against the velvet. He was entranced with how soft it was, running over it again with the tips of his fingers. Then, he glared, scrunching the material. “Why the hell did they put us here?”

“I don’t know.” He pulled back the curtains to reveal more bars of iron. The light burned, and he closed it again.

“Otabek, this is so weird.” Said Yuri, now touching the fur.

“I know.”

“It’s so soft,” he said in awe, poking at the pillow again. He lay back on the couch, sighing. “It feels like it’s made of feathers.”

“It probably is,” Otabek frowned, watching Yuri carefully.

“This is the softest thing I’ve ever felt,” he said, closing his eyes. “Damn it, is this the kinda shit you slept on back in the city?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve never been able to afford this kind of luxury.”

The carriage was small. He could stretch his arms out and touch both walls. They were surrounded by four walls, and two windows, all barred and locked. Even in this luxury, he was trapped. Despite everything that he had done, he was stuck behind these cushions and feather-soft velvet.

“Otabek?”

“Hmm?” He said, watching as Yuri curled himself up on the cushion.

“I think-“ he yawned, eyes tearing up. “I think I’m going to sleep.”

“Sleep?” Otabek said, amused as the fairy nodded sleepily.

“Yeah, I… didn’t really sleep much.” He mumbled. Yuri yawned again, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t remember when I slept.”

“Get some rest,” Otabek brushed his yellow hair back with his fingers. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Don’t go again.” Said Yuri. He sighed into the pillow. “Can you hold me?” The nervousness with which he asked that was entirely unnecessary.

Otabek wrapped him in his arms. He didn’t need to ask to get this. Slowly, Yuri’s wings slowed down to a slight stutter, glow gently fading away. He gathered him up, laying down on the cushions. Yuri didn’t protest. Otabek touched his cheek, moving across the bone of it, into the hallowed bit underneath, to where his pulse was. It was slow.

Otabek let out his own sigh, but he couldn’t sleep.

His scent made him drowsy, and whenever his heart would start to beat and sweat would break out across his forehead, he’d hold Yuri tighter, and wait for it to pass.

It was going to be fine.

 

*

 

“Ay, Otabek?”

The fairy roused him, shaking his shoulder hard. He raised his head slowly, taking it in. Of course, they were still here. Why had he thought it would be any different?

“Yeah?”

His eyes were shiny, his shoulders tense. There was very little he could see, but a little light came in through the windows. He frowned, a little tired, ruffled bedhead hair combed back with fingers. The corner of his mouth lifted into a grimace. “We’re moving again.”

Otabek peeked out the window, parting the curtains. It was dark outside, the light of the torches bringing a sharp glow over the carriage. The wheels hobbled underneath them, bumping up the carriage. He closed the curtains against, covering the bars.

“Damn it,” said Yuri. “I can’t believe they’re just taking us away like this. We don’t even have a choice.”

“Of course.” Said Otabek. “They’re not giving us any chances.”

Yuri grumbled. “It’s like they sent us this carriage as a joke.”

Otabek sat down on the cushions, pulling the fairy in. But Yuri wasn’t having any of it, pushing back at him. He folded his arms tight across his chest, breathing through his nose. Otabek felt a pang, pulling back.

“Hey,” he said, frowning. “Are you okay? Did I-“

“Show it to me,” said Yuri.

“Show what?”

“Don’t play dumb! You’re better than that, show me the vine.” There was no chance to protest; Yuri was pulling up his shirt before he could think.

Yuri recoiled, disgusted. “Shit Otabek!” he cried, running his hand over the skin. “Shit, why the hell didn’t you tell me it had gotten this bad.” He looked down.

The skin around the plant had turned red. Yuri’s fingers felt cool against it. It looked a little like infected stitching. There was a bit of pain, a little as he pressed around the vine. It was loose inside of him.

“Fuck,” said Yuri, running a hand through his hair. “Damn it, how the hell…” His hands clenched, and he stared at the blue marks that still stuck there. He frowned, and words began to form along his wrists, only to be pulled once more into the marks.

“Don’t strain yourself,” said Otabek, grasping his arms. “Don’t use it all up.”

“What the heck am I supposed to do then?” He cried. “Look at you… it’s all infected and red. This is going to kill you if it goes on like this, damn it!” Yuri stood, walking over towards the window. “Hey,” he called out. “Hey, Otabek needs medical attention!” He growled, pulling on the bars, sticking himself as far out as he could. “Hey, you fucks! Pay attention, yeah you!” His anger simmered close to the surface, and if looks could kill, he’d have broken those bars in half by now. “He needs a healer! Come on,”

“Yuri-“

“You son of a bitch, fuck!” Shouted Yuri, seething.

“Yuri, they’re not going to pay any attention-“ He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Fucker! You better come back or, by the gods I’ll kill-“

“There’s no point in doing this-“ he reached for Yuri’s shoulder, and was almost immediately thrown off.

“I swear-“

“Shut it!” a large fist slammed against bars, Yuri leaping back, inches away from smacking his head into the ceiling. Otabek caught him around the middle, gently placing the fairy back on the floor, where he continued to boil.

“Yuri, it won’t help to get angry,” he said, which only angered him more. He was practically foaming at the mouth.

“I thought it’d be like this if our bond broke,” said Yuri, lifting his shirt again. “Shit, it really looks terrible.”

“We’ll sort this out.”

Yuri looked down. “Don’t you see how serious this is? Our bond, it’s gone, and it’s like you don’t even care.” He whispered the words, chewing and spitting them back.

Otabek took a step back. “…What?” He said, and Yuri glared. “I thought the bond was accidental? Not that is doesn’t matter, it’s just-” he said, watching Yuri’s eyes turn to daggers. “It was just a… required bond. Not a purposeful one.”

“Required.” Hissed Yuri. “Required? What the fuck, Otabek!”

“What?”

“What?!” said Yuri, incredulous. “That was a lot more than a - normal bond!”

Well, this was news.

“When did that change?”

Yuri’s eyes went wide. “We… we had a… partnership bond! You know, when you.. uh-“ He gestured to his wings. “When you asked to touch them! What… didn’t you know what you were asking for?”

And just like that, the room fell out from underneath him.

There were different types of bonds, but perhaps since his had been one way, he hadn’t been able to tell. The familial bond was the most common, between family and friends. Then a requirement one, purely used for business. He had read a few accounts of them being used between soldiers fighting back against the king. The other one, a partnership.

Practically, the equivalent to marriage.

His heart sank.

“I didn’t know.”

“I know. I realized.” Said Yuri, gritting his teeth. “That morning. You didn’t even say anything.”

It hit the bottom of his stomach, and began to fizz.

“You should have told me then.”

“Well, I obviously couldn’t tell you!” Said Yuri. “Look at how your reacting!”

“I wouldn’t have had a problem if you would have just told me.”

Yuri seethed. “I thought you knew what you were doing when you started touching them!”

“I didn’t know that would happen.” He said, quietly.

“Why the hell are you blaming me then!”

“You should have told me what it meant to you.”

“I thought you knew what you were asking from me,” cried Yuri, crunching the words down to points. “You can’t blame me for something I didn’t know you didn’t know! That doesn’t make a single bit of sense in this world!”

Otabek clenched his teeth. “Then why the hell are you the only one yelling?”

“You-“ His eyes narrowed, and he turned. “Bastard.” He muttered. “I didn’t know how you were going to react. You didn’t mention the bond at all, even after you did… that.”

“I didn’t know.” He said, looking up. “Okay, Yuri? I didn’t realize.”

“How the fuck didn’t you realize?!” Said Yuri, pushing him. “I heard everything! I saw everything you did! Didn’t you notice when you saw through my eyes while your soldier buddies were attacking us?”

“And how was I supposed to know that it was the result of us doing that!” He cried. “I didn’t mind, I truly didn’t, but don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault!” Yuri’s wings flared out. “I didn’t realize, but if I did, then I would have done it anyway! You wanted me, right? Because I want you just as much.” He breathed, the tense line of Yuri’s shoulders. “I didn’t know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel the same way.”

Yuri deflated. “You can’t act that way, and then say things like that!”

“I love you.” The words came easy now, tumbling out one after the other, but they all meant it all. His heart leapt back up at the sight, his eyes aglow with happiness, as much as he tried to shove it down with that glare.

“Stop it,” said Yuri, the edge of his mouth twisting upwards unwillingly.

“I do, Yuri. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.” He stepped forward, opening his arms.

“Gods, shut up, you sap!” Grumble Yuri, wrapping his arms around Otabek. “Damn it,” he mumbled, sighing into his neck. “Damn you, human.”

“Shh, I’m sorry, okay? Are you happy now?”

“I’m never happy.”

“Uh huh.”

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

“I love you too.”

 

*

 

Beka.

That wasn’t a word he heard often. It had been years. So, obviously, when he heard it from Yuri, it was enough to break the ground beneath him.

“Are you okay?” Asked Yuri, brow creasing. “Sorry, shouldn’t I call you that?”

He shook his head. “Where did you hear that?”

“That one dream…” said Yuri. “The one with the drowning. Just before I interrupted.”

“It’s not… a good topic for me.” He said, looking down.

Had he been like this in front of Yuri before? He had spoken of his mother before, but it had all been clinical, a lack of sentimentally. He’d been telling it as if it were not his own. Otabek was only an observer. She had died, and there was nothing he could have done. His father died, and there was nothing he could have done there either. Adding his emotions, his actual thoughts, it only clouded things.

So he had buried those, digging himself a little enclave, and that was it. That was what he had done for years, while training, while fighting, while defending the king and his homeland. When he sat down to try and dig it back up, it was jumbled and dirty and full of pain. Sometimes, it was better to leave those things behind.

“Oh.” Said Yuri, eyes flickering. “Oh.” He didn’t need to look so downtrodden. It wasn’t a happy story, none of it was. Even just the thought… it tasted bitter in his mouth. Otabek didn’t want to start tearing up again. He had cried enough. Enough to last him out the rest of his days. No more tears were needed.

There was that theme again.

He had protected his king, and his country. Yuri leaned against him, almost crumbling as he wiped a tear from Otabek’s chin.

“I never protect the people I love.” He said, horse. Yuri swam before him, mixing blond into black into velvet red cushions. He sucked the air in between his teeth, cool spring air in his lungs. It tumbled out of him again, trembling around him.

“Otabek-“

“I couldn’t protect my father, or my анам.” He said, sinking down, down. Underneath the dirt, back into that space. The air wouldn’t stop trembling, Yuri, still so far away. Yuri was sitting back, not even touching. Why wouldn’t he reach out, just to stop this awful feeling for a moment?

Yuri’s eyes were a betrayal. Looking back into his eyes was betrayal, and he yielded, closing them. Stop these swirling colors, stop these awful feeling. Block them out, don’t feel them, do not breath them in, refuse, refute, fight with every last inching breath until you were nothing. Otabek was already nothing, and in that was his chance. If he wasn’t worth a damn, he could throw everything he had onto a single basket, because once that was gone, he was done. Less than nothing, and then perhaps he’d be even more a wreak. He could throw himself into the woods, he could be stupid enough to trust a fairy, he could make that fairy smile, and he could throw himself away while protecting him.

But, what had he done? Had he protected this man?

Fuck no.

Why were they both sitting here if that were the case?

“I couldn’t even protect you.” He barely heard it himself. Otabek broke in on himself, and once more, he was only an observer as it spilled onto his skin, into Yuri’s hands. It left him scrambling, crashing down, grasping for a foothold to no avail.

Yuri became his foothold, and while the scent, peppermint and honey, with a hint of pear drowned him further, pushing him out, pulling him out through the other side, he held on. His arms, thin and lanky as they were, held in the broken pieces.

“Otabek, you protected me.” He said, clutching him like he was about to melt away. Like he could seep between the cracks, out to the grass, into the night. “You kept me safe, don’t ever doubt that.” Those eyes would kill him, they were turning him to dust. “I would have died in that cabin without you! After grandpa died, I didn’t know what to do!” Those sharp words cut, spilling him. Between the cracks. Yuri’s eyes were like glass, thin and breakable. He could barely keep from shattering.

It was Otabek’s fault for letting his own mask fall.

“I don’t know how many more years I could have gone in if you weren’t there!” Cried Yuri. “Do you know how many years it has been since I’ve laughed like we have? Since I’ve smiled? Otabek…” his brows were drawn together, and Yuri wiped his nose. “You’re not allowed to feel like shit. You’ve been so good to me-”

“I’ve let them all die-“

“No you haven’t!” Said Yuri. “You didn’t let them die, you did your best, and you can’t blame yourself for that! Do you think your анам wants you to feel like this?”

“Don’t-“ the words, they tangled up in his neck.

“Stop trying to change the past by blaming yourself!” He brought his hands up to the sides on his face, leaning in. “We are here,” he said, softly. “Because we screwed up. Because I killed someone. Not because you are a bad person.”

Yuri repeated those words for as long as he needed. He would say them over and over, murmuring them into his neck and shouting them down like knifes. An endless torrent until he’d get it through his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only 1/3 of the carriage ride, so don't worry folks! There should be a lot more of these two just chilling and talking about their problems left! I'll sort everything out, I promise! ;)
> 
> See you all next chapter!


	18. If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, I shall not live in vain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unlike his cool fingers, Yuri’s mouth was warm. 
> 
> Touches lingered, bright lines tracing down his skin. Yuri breathed back into him, hissing. “Fuck the King, fuck all his stupid soldiers. Fuck that stupid war.” It poured, torrential, filling his lungs. Hot tears fell on his neck, and Yuri cursed. 
> 
> “Shit, can’t they see that all I want to do is be with you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to 'Cloves - Better Now', and even though it is a break up song, it's beautiful. I seriously love this song more than anything, and for the best effect, I'd turn it really low so you can just barely hear it, and then read this. Trust me, it's worth your time.
> 
> Enjoy <3 <3!

“You know, Beka really suits you.”

“Really?” He asked. Yuri pressed a kiss to his cheek, eyelashes brushing his cheekbone.

“Yeah,” Said Yuri, the words soft against his neck. “I won’t call you that if you don’t want me to.” Yuri rustled, shifting in closer. A stream of cool breeze came in through the bars. The tips of Yuri fingers were cold, and every few minutes he stuck them back into his mouth to warm them.

“It’s not… bothersome.”

“I like it.” Said Yuri. “It sounds nice. Beka.” He said, trying it out on his tongue. “Beka. Are you sure? You were pretty bad before.”

Otabek shook his head. Yuri looked at him with such concern, such trust and love. Warmth ebbed at him, nabbing at the edges. He pulled Yuri close, hugging him tightly. His ear pressed to his neck. They smelled stale, skin and sweat. It wasn’t cold, but Yuri’s neck was slightly sticky with the dirt clinging to his skin.

There it was. His life blood, the flow of energy and soul. Otabek closed his eyes, the gentle _whoomph_ of each beat settling his own.

“I’m fine.” He insisted. “I’m okay.”

“Are you really sure?” Asked Yuri. He swept Otabek’s hair back, pushing it out of his eyes. “Because I really want to call you that.”

“It’s alright.” He insisted, planting a kiss to the closest place he could reach, right under Yuri’s chin. “Don’t worry, last night… it was something else. It’s not the word that bothers me.”

“I wish I could fix it.” Said Yuri. His tone shifted, cool and sharp to the touch. “I wish I could help you.”

“You’re doing enough.”

“I want to fix this world.”

“I don’t think we can do that.”

“We?”

“As if I’m going to let you face the world on your own.” He said, and Yuri stroked his cheek. “Do you think I’m leaving? I’m not leaving, not ever.”

Yuri’s jaw grew taunt. “What if one of us die? Do you think you can stop that?” Damn it, his tone was almost boarding on mocking, but it sounded more hurt than anything else.

“Even so…” he said, and his stomach twisted at the words. “Even if I die, I’m not leaving.” He placed kisses upon him, up his throat. Yuri swallowed as he trailed upwards, a kiss beside his ear, then accepting him deeper, lips to lips. Stroking the fire between them, the thrum of lifeblood and heat. Anything to stop the thought, to pause it in its process. Otabek’s index finger touched the thin membrane of his wing.

How could anyone do such a thing? His thumb moved over the bump on Yuri’s throat. How could anyone bring a knife here? He had done it many times, to people he both knew and didn’t know. But now, with the warmth between them, it was impossible to imagine. How could anyone hurt him? Yuri’s tongue, sharp, moved him in its heat and intensity.

“I’m never leaving you, Yuri. I’ll haunt you till your dying days. I’m never going to go anywhere.” He twisted the words into Yuri’s skin, breathing it into his lungs like cigar smoke. Yuri’s eyes were dark, intense as all hell, piercing enough to send his heart into a frenzy. “And if I die, then I’ll watch over you, every second.”

“Stop,” said Yuri, his chest swelling up. “Otabek, you’re not going to die. Just…” he kissed him, with none of the heat from before. “All this talk of death is horrible. Gods, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He breathed, deep, from the bottom of his lungs, up and out. “Let’s just have this moment.”

A moment. Was that all they were allowed? What was there stopping them from having their eternity?

Yuri sighed. “I wish it wasn’t like this.” He stared out at the window. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish that we didn’t have to fight for every little bit of happiness we get, as if we don’t deserve it.”

“It’s just how things work out.”

A silence, reverberation of sound. Rinse and repeat.

“I’m so fucking sick of this,” said Yuri, eyes dull. He bit at his cheek, and rubbed his cool fingers together. “I want to be happy, Otabek.”

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry.” Said Yuri, digging his nails into Otabek’s hand.

“What if I am anyway?” He asked.

“Then I’ll tell you to shove it.” Said Yuri. He chuckled, mouth tasting sour like unripe grapes. “I just want them to leave us alone. Fuck them all.”

Unlike his cool fingers, Yuri’s mouth was warm. Touches lingered, bright lines tracing down his skin. Yuri breathed back into him, hissing. “Fuck the King, fuck all his stupid soldiers. Fuck that _stupid_ war.” It poured, torrential, filling his lungs. Hot tears fell on his neck, and Yuri cursed. “Shit, can’t they see that all I want to do is be with you?”

Otabek was flooded. He drank Yuri in like a man who hadn’t had a drop for days, never ending kisses along his dusty pale skin. Yuri’s tongue felt like silk, and his teeth bit at his lips. He welcomed it, the pain only encouraged the flame. There was no room for doubt between them like this. If he focused on the feeling of Yuri’s lips on him, it could almost be home.

Yuri shifted above him, moving his weight. His knee came to a rest between Otabek’s legs, inches from his crotch. Gods, he was so close, if he could only shuffle forward…

Yuri wrapped his arms around his neck, tugging him closer. A surge of heat came up through his chest, and he could barely breathe, much less kiss as Yuri’s knee rubbed against him.  

“Please,” he whispered. “Please.” Yuri dragged him in for another kiss, tangling a hand in his hair, tugging him close, so every bit of them was close enough to feel the thrum of the air, and the skin between them to hum with energy.

“Yeah?”

“Please,” was he really begging?

“Oh.” Said Yuri, lifting himself away for a long second, staring. His face flushed, looking back up. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. “Oh,”

“Ugh, are you…?”

Yuri paused.

Yuri reached down, tugging a finger over the edge of his pants. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, this is…” his hand reached down, teasing at his stomach. He maneuvered himself around, shifting his weight to the other knee. His lip trapped behind his teeth as he went down, and in a sudden moment that made him throw his head back, wrapping his hand around the base.

Yuri breathed, moving up, pressing gently against his skin.

“Is this okay?”

“Maybe… a- tighter?”

Yuri adjusted his grip, squeezing. “Like this?” He said, dragging his fist down. Otabek almost bucked into his hands. He nodded vigorously. He didn’t entirely trust himself to speak.

Yuri continued, only stopping to change hands.

“It was easier when I was using my mouth,” said Yuri. Otabek groaned, his hips almost surging up on their own. It was too much, combined with that dark look in Yuri’s eyes, and the hand pumping up his cock. Yuri laughed.

“It’s not funny,” he managed to cough out, and Yuri chuckled again.

“It was! This, this is different. But…”

“But what?” He grunted, trying to still his hips.

“I’ve been wanting to do this,” said Yuri, grinning. “For ages.”

“How long?” He panted. “How long have you wanted?”

“Since we started sleeping in that bed together.” Groaned Yuri, running a finger over him in such a way that it sent shivers down his spine. “I’d see you every morning, like that, and it felt like I was slowly losing my mind. I wanted to touch you then, but… shit.” He said, looking wide eyed at Otabek. “Wow, Beka. I keep wondering what you’re thinking now, with me, touching your…” he paused, and Otabek almost shoved himself back into his hands. Yuri frowned down at the bulge on his pants, still not moving. “Khuy?”

“What?” he muttered, a bit irritated that Yuri had stopped. He twitched, dug his fingers into the velvet. “Yuri.”

“Khuy… Khuy.” Yuri mumbled, and his grip tightened ever so slightly, sending a jolt up his spin. “Shit, what is Khuy?”

“Khuy?” he spluttered, easing back a little. “Yuri-“

“This,” said Yuri, poking his dick with a finger. “What is this?”

“What?” said Otabek, blinking.

“Gods be damned, what is the word for this?” Seethed Yuri. “The word,” he said, each word punctuated with another poke. “For this.”

He erupted into laughter, much to the dismay of Yuri, still holding onto his dick with a confused look on his face.

“Come on, Beka!” Cried Yuri. “Don’t fucking tease me!”

Otabek laughed even harder, until he was wheezing. The tips of Yuri’s ears had gone completely red, and they were exceptionally warm to the touch.

“Don’t you know the word?” Said Otabek, grinning. Yuri already looked undone, it wouldn’t be kind to tease him more. But the look of his face! He swallowed another bout of laughter.

“How the hell am I supposed to know the word for… that.” Said Yuri, covering his eyes. “Damn it, screw you!”

“That’s the plan.”

“Stop fucking with me!”

“Why?”

“Beka,” groaned Yuri. “Come on, I just need to know.”

“Penis.” Suggested Otabek, running a hand through his hair. Yuri raised an eyebrow, and shifted, running down the tip.

“Does that feel good?” Said Yuri, kissing him at the edge of his jaw. “Me, touching your penis?”

Otabek immediately recoiled. “Well,” he wheezed. “If, in that context-“ he coughed, hiding his grin behind his hand. “It sounds a bit- ah-“ Yuri cocked his head.

_Poor choice of wording…_

“It’s clinical.” He stated, willing himself not to either start laughing, or to just grab his cock himself.

“No, then there would be another more… colloquial term? I know there’s one.”

“Dick? Cock?” he was beyond caring at this point.

Yuri bristled. “Why do both of those sound even weirder?”

“You don’t have to call it anything.” Said Otabek.

“I thought you liked it.”

“I really don’t mind, either way, just don’t… ugh-“ he bit his lip, his voice hitching. “Don’t call it that.”

Yuri flushed, but nodded. “Sure, alright.”

He began to pump his hand again, showering him in sharp sparks. He was twisting and turning in Yuri’s hands, barely able to control himself as such little contact. If this is what is was like with just his hand, then what would it feel like to be inside of him? Or the reverse, with Yuri thrusting up into his body? Gods, the imagery had him on an edge.

“Gods, I wish I knew. I wish I knew back then.” He pushed against him, the hand moving between them slowing. “You look amazing like this.”

Yuri brought his other hand up to Otabek forehead, wiping a bead of sweat.

“It wasn’t like this on the beach,” said Yuri, grinning. His wings, they were starting to glow, a gentle warm light seeping up through his veins. “I couldn’t see your face. Sure, it was nice, I could feel how much you liked it, believe me!” He chuckled, twisting his hand. “But I like seeing your face.”

“Yuri,” he said gently. “Please, just stop talking.”

He grinned.

“What do you want me to do with my mouth then?” He mouthed at his ear, delicious curls of sounds down his ear, right to his groin. The muscles on his stomach, with Yuri’s fingers splayed over them, went tight.

Imagery of the beach, the sun rising over the shore, waves driving into the sun, Yuri’s mouth on him. Bitter, but it was loving, tongue like the water crashing to the sand. Wet kisses that tasted like him, from just a minute ago, and it was perfect.

_Oh, by the gods. Where did this man come from?_

It almost sent him over.

“Kiss me,” Otabek whispered, eyes wide.  Yuri leaned down, balancing on his elbows. His tongue was warm, but Otabek could barely keep up. It was getting too much, the pressure rising within him again when Yuri ran a thumb down over the top of his cock again.

He lifted his hand, up to the veins along his glowing wing, roughly pressing his thumb to the skin to coax the moans out of him. Yuri growled, grabbing his hand.

“Don’t just touch my wings.”

“You can just ask,” said Otabek, and ran his palm over the hardness in Yuri’s pants. “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbled, frowning. He surged forward, panting. “Can’t you tell what I want?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Asshole,” hissed Yuri. “Do it. Touch me.”

“Where?”

“Motherfucker!” Cried Yuri, fingers tightening over his cock, and he swallowed a groan. “You know where! Touch my cock, bastard.”

“Don’t be rude, Yuri.”

“Beka, if you keep teasing me, I’m going to stop, and I’m not going to touch you for the rest of the trip.” Apparently, that was enough of a threat. He stroked him over the material once more, before reaching into his pants. Yuri groaned into his mouth, thick moans that made his heart pulse. Otabek took him in hand, stroking repeatedly, moving his lips over to his collar bone. His kissed a bite into the bone, hand moving over his head to pull the moans from his mouth.

Yuri hauled him closer, thrusting into his hands. “Come on, faster, I’m-“ His wings fluttered, beating the air, bright to the tips.

“Already? I barely-“ Yuri cut him off, glaring. He cursed, legs quivering.

“Shut up and get me off.” Otabek didn’t think those words were intentionally arousing, but it certainly felt that way with Yuri’s hard cock pressing insistently into his hands. His hips rose and fell, and he spilt quickly over Yuri’s hands, shuddering, sucking in air into his willing lungs. Yuri wasn’t far behind, breath hitching, a delicious whimper escaping from between his tightly clenched teeth.

His legs turned to jelly, whatever was holding him up seemed to fall apart all at once, his muscles relaxing. Yuri collapsed, suddenly whining at the contact. He pushed Otabek’s hands away gently. Warmth coated his hands, and he wiped it off on the edge of the low hanging curtain.

Yuri wrinkled his noise, leaning back. His cheeks flushed, and he breathed hard, quick heaving breaths. A layer of sweat coated his neck, and he rubbed it away with his forearm.

“Ugh, did you just wipe that on the curtain?”

“Yes,” he said, dropping the material. Yuri huffed, staring at his own hand. “Go on, it’s fine. We don’t have anything to clean up with here anyway.”

“Gross,” said Yuri, gingerly wiping the fluid off. “Eww.”

“It’s just cum.”

“Someone is going to see that stain when we leave.” Said Yuri, coming down to sit beside him. He laced their fingers together. His fingers were still slightly wet.

“Huh?” He huffed, wiping his brow. “Who cares?”

Yuri shrugged. He looked back at Otabek, a gentle smile on his face. “Damn it, you look great, all worked up like this.” Yuri ran his hand back through his hair, leaning across for a peck. He rested in Otabek’s arms, wings brushing up against his hands with gentle, swaying movements. “Now I want to do it all over again.”

“You did come pretty quickly.” Said Otabek quietly. “It’s not a bad thing, don’t look like that.”

“Heh, it’s your fault.” Said Yuri, grinning. He looked completely satisfied, and his smile was soft and full with it. “I blame you entirely.”

“Please do.” He said, throwing a near identical fucked-out grin back at Yuri. “I don’t mind in the slightest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! I've been dealing with some family issues recently, and it's just been taking up all my time. I'm really happy that I'm finally done with this chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Oh yeah, and the smut D: . I've never really written something like this before*, so it was a little out of my comfort zone, but give me a heads up if you liked it ;). See you all next week!
> 
> *To clarify, never this sort of smut. I can handle lesbian smut with a lot more grace...


	19. Escape is such a thankful Word. I often in the Night. Consider it unto myself, no spectacle in sight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe there was just a part of me that didn’t believe it was real. Maybe I’d wake up, and you’d be there next to me in that cabin. That us, being here, wasn’t real? It’s fucking stupid, but I couldn’t believe it until I actually saw it with my eyes.” Yuri grit his teeth. “I think it just hit me now.”
> 
> The wheels shook underneath them.
> 
> “In a couple minutes,” said Yuri, swallowing. “They’re going to separate us. And there’s nothing we can do about it!” He glared, allowed his anger to flow, to pass. “I hate being so helpless.”
> 
> “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, clutching Yuri close enough to feel the rush of blood, how his heartbeat began to work itself up. “It’s going to be okay.”
> 
> “Stop lying,” murmured Yuri, closing his eyes. “You know it’s not true, don’t lie to me. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey! Early update, what is this?
> 
> Enjoy!

“Heh, you know what’s funny?” Muttered Yuri. “We didn’t even get to have real sex before any of this happened. How stupid is that?” He laughed dryly. “All the time in the world back then, and I was too scared to ask.”

“Real sex?” he asked. “We did- other things.” Otabek frowned.

“No- no, Beka, the other stuff was great!” He insisted shaking his head. “I loved that. But I’m talking about… the other thing.” Yuri almost looked embarrassed. Damn, he looked cute like that.

“The other thing?” Otabek shouldn’t have teased, he really shouldn’t have, but just that look made up for it. Gods, he was awful for doing this, but that flush over his cheeks was absolutely worth it.

“You know what I mean.” Yuri mumbled.

“How do you even know about that?” Biting down a smile.

“My grandfather had a fuck ton of books. And some of them were a bit… explicit.” He laughed, brushing his hair behind his ear. “And it doesn’t exactly take a genius to figure out if that sort of thing works for women, then it must work the other way around, right?” He was slightly red, but grinned.

He wouldn’t lie. He had, on occasion, read a few of these -ah- _novels_ himself. The library in the castle had contained a few of them which he had stumbled across. There were a couple that focused on _that_ kind of this, and while he’d admit that he’d never really seen the appeal when it came to woman, he could quite easily picture it with Yuri. A little to easily.

Wow, that was incredibly… distracting.

He hadn’t given it too much thought, but the mechanics were easy enough to understand. He couldn’t really understand why a woman would want that though. There was already a way for them to have sex without going to those lengths. It always seemed a bit too messy to be worth it. Sure, it was an interesting idea to consider, but...

With another man, however…

Gods, focus!

“He kept books like that in the house?”

Yuri shrugged. “I mean, everyone gets lonely sometimes, right?” He chortled, shaking his head. “After my grandfather died, I had the house to myself. After a while, I decided to clean his room out. The upstairs place. When he was alive, I either slept in his bed, or in the smaller one. I used to have this tiny one in this small house he made for me.” Yuri’s eyes dropped to the floor, his lips slightly turned. “Anyways, I cleared out his bedroom, and I found a couple books behind the dresser. I- ah-“ he broke off in a laugh. “I don’t exactly think he intended for me to find it.”

“Probably not, if he stuffed it back there.”

Yuri snorted. “Yeah. Most of it was tame, just romance. It really wasn’t that bad. The first two were actually pretty boring. But, man, the other one?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Jeez, grandpa! It was descriptive as hell too! Gods, I- I was probably in shock just reading those words. I didn’t even know half of the words, and I had to look some of them up. Well, half is a bit of an exaggeration, but still.”

Yuri’s cheeks were red. But there it was. A tinge of nostalgia, and longing. “To be perfectly honest, the most of the book was this heated romance between this Queen and her bodyguard. It wasn’t too interesting. Really, it wasn’t, but there were multiple scenes where they’d-“ he coughed. “Do- things. And it was pretty provoking!”

“What did you do with the book then?” Otabek asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think I… I must of just sat there, in front of the fireplace with a translator in my other hand, slowly reading the words, just… in awe? Horror? I don’t know. I’d never even really thought about anyone else in that sort of light, but now I was all of a sudden exposed to something like that? It was like another world had opened.”

He knew that feeling well.

“And I did have a lot of time on my hands in that cabin. I was alone there for years before I met you. And, I wanted to know what all the fuss was about!” He buried his face in his hands, grinning. “And I was curious! The woman- she went crazy when he did that- stuff- to her! So, I tried it out. A few times.” His voice tapered off into a high pitched whisper, and he dug the palms of his hands into his eyes. “Gods be damned, this is embarrassing! Beka, you better not tease me for this!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He said, smirking a little as he kissed Yuri’s forehead. “It’s not that embarrassing.”

“I wish we could have done that,” he sniffed, rubbing his eyes, the edges of his smiles coming up in a nervous smirk. “Before we got here.”

Admittedly, that thought had crossed his mind a couple times, even while he hadn’t taken the time to really consider it. He’d… like to do that. It wasn’t as if he needed to do it, but the thought was certainly appealing.

“I suppose, if you’re talking about _that,_ then yes.” He said, cheeks warming slightly. “We haven’t done that. But we’ve done- other things.”

“Sorry,” said Yuri. He looked down at the floor, absentmindedly fiddling with the edge of a cushion. “It’s not that the other stuff wasn’t amazing, because it definitely was, it just…” he looked up as Otabek laced their fingers together. “It… would have been nice?”

“Nice?” He said, kissing Yuri’s cheek. “Nice is an understatement.”

“God damn, Beka!” He laughed, turning red to the touch. “You can’t just say shit like that!”

“It’s true.” He mumbled, and despite his trying, he couldn’t hold eye contact. Yuri cackled, pulling up his face until their eyes met again.

“You big sap!” Said Yuri, grinning. He pressed their lips together, wrapping his arms around his neck in pure, infiltered glee. His smile was infectious, the sharp kisses sending a tingle through his spine. He barely had time to get a breath in, and when Yuri finally pulled back, he couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up through his chest.

“Next time,” he muttered. “If we ever get the chance,”

“When,” said Yuri, expression darkening. “When. Don’t start with ‘if’.”

“Fine,” He said, kissing Yuri’s knuckles, watching his pupils grow, stretching, consuming the green of his eye. “When we get the chance.”

Yuri didn’t have time to reach between his legs. A hard knock on the door made them both freeze, and two wooden bowls were shoved inside quickly. Otabek hadn’t even noticed that they’d stopped.

They ate quickly, the hunger had been eating away at their stomachs too long for them to care about the taste. He drank, quenching the thirst that clung to his tongue like sand. The porridge wasn’t enough. Otabek licked out the bowl with his fingers, sucking the last remnants, as much as he could.

“Did you get enough?” Asked Otabek, the food and the guilt settling in his stomach. He’d usually give some of his own to Yuri, he needed it more. Pale skin and bones, every little bit helped. But after five days of just this, he had completely forgotten today.

Yuri gave him a cold laugh. “It’s never enough.” He scrapped the bowl with his nails, forcing every little last bit out that he could. “Don’t feel guilty.” And with this, he poked at Otabek’s stomach, pushing until he met skin. The material was loose around his stomach. “See, Beka.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re skinny too.”

 

*

 

“I think we’re getting close.” Said Otabek. That nostalgic, sick feeling in his belly. That was it. They were close by, he could feel it in his blood. The roads were beginning to look familiar. The people, walking in clusters of eight and twelve, all with loads on their backs. Most of them were heading in the same direction. They looked at the carriage, but not for long, as the soldiers around them delivered sharp glares to anyone that came close.

“Is this it?” Said Yuri, standing up off the ground, walking to his side. His face hardened.

Those streets, the one he’d walked many times before, full of the familiar and the strange, the rich and the poor all gathered up in one. Silk clothing brushing the dirt while others begged at their feet while they passed. The mixing of the social classes, living such different lives only inches away from each other. Children running about. With passages and alleyways leading to who knows where, and the fresh morning dew that clung to white stone castle walls.

It was a shame to return to his city like this. He’d left a hero, and now he was coming back in chains. It shouldn’t have been like this.

It only became worse as they got closer. The noise was all around them, growing in intensity as they grew closer and closer. Yuri twisted their hands together, face in a forceful blank expression.

They passed the wall, only stopping for a second. A face peaked through the carriage, observing for a moment before disappearing again. Yuri shivered, turning to hide his wings. There was a bump in the road, nearly knocking them to their feet, and then they were in.

Once they were behind the walls, it was a cacophony. Shouts and screamed almost drove him to placing his hands over his ears like a child. It was pure noise, all around them, knocking into the carriage, reverberating through his skin. Yuri’s hands tensed up, and he carefully peaked through the small window.

The smell had shifted in the air. Large wafts of blew in through the cracks. Otabek breathed in. It was the smell of people, the dust beneath their feet kicking up the scent of animals and dirty into the air. Heat, and the sweat the stuck to their skin. The bitter tang of the vendors along the road, with their cart loads of strong smelling exotic fruit. People gathered around, scanning over the wares.

“There’s so many,” cried Yuri. “Gods, there must be thousands, just there!” He gripped the curtain, leaning up even more. “How do they all live like this? There are so many of them, there can’t be enough room.”

“The market is usually this crowded. It’s just another day here.” Otabek looked over Yuri’s shoulder. From this angle, the people could have been swarming. An indistinct dark mass of brown, red and green clothing.

“And I thought it was bad back in the village.” Said Yuri, his thumb brushing against the back of Otabek’s hand. He frowned, and his other hand came up to the bars. He was holding it hard, it looked as if he were trying to twist the metal. “Damn it. Damn it all.”

“Don’t look its going to bother you.” Otabek said gently, pulling his other hand away. “Yuri.”

“I’m fine,” he said, turning away. “It’s fine.”

The air swelled. Otabek shut his eyes, embracing the fairy across his middle, feeling the brush of wings against his chest. He stuck his chin over Yuri’s shoulder, pressing close. Yuri nudged him gently with an elbow, and then intertwined their fingers.

“Maybe there was just a part of me that didn’t believe it was real. Maybe I’d wake up, and you’d be there next to me in that cabin. That us, being here, wasn’t real? It’s fucking stupid, but I couldn’t believe it until I actually saw it with my eyes.” Yuri grit his teeth. “I think it just hit me now.”

The wheels shook underneath them.

“In a couple minutes,” said Yuri, swallowing. “They’re going to separate us. And there’s nothing we can do about it!” He glared, allowed his anger to flow, to pass. “I hate being so helpless.”

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, clutching Yuri close enough to feel the rush of blood, how his heartbeat began to work itself up. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Stop lying,” murmured Yuri, closing his eyes. “You know it’s not true, don’t lie to me. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I’m going to do everything I can,” he said, kissing his damp forehead. “To get back to you. It doesn’t matter, we will be together.” Yuri caught his lips, hungry and needy. Sharp bites to his lips, Yuri’s tongue gently pushing into his mouth. His arms pulled him closer, tightening around his neck making escape impossible. Otabek dragged him in, rolling his desires and wishes out with his tongue, his mouth, his lips. Made his body compensate for words, to speak in some primitive natural language with the movements of Yuri’s hands on his waist, pressing _remember, remember, remember,_ into Yuri.

Remember that this was only temporary. That this could only last for so long.

“Otabek,” groaned Yuri, pressing their foreheads together. “Please, don’t make this feel like the last time. Don’t make it feel like that, I can’t- I won’t-“ Yuri swallowed his words, opening his eyes. “Gods,” and now his bottom lip began to tremble. “I wish I could hear your thoughts, but these damn marks!” He pulled on his forearms, at the blue thumb prints that still stained his skin.

“As soon as we get those off, I’ll let you hear them.” He promised, and reached down between them, carefully lifting Yuri’s wrists. He didn’t protest, allowing Otabek to kiss the marks.

They’d do it right. He’d caress Yuri’s wings until he spilled and pooled into Otabek’s mind. Exposing his thoughts, as terrible and frightening as they could be at times, would perhaps be a bit more bearable with someone beside him. The next time, they would do it properly.

“Last time we were apart, I could at least feel you there.” He whispered. “This is going to be awful.”

Words of comfort were lost to him. How was he supposed to comfort Yuri when he hardly knew what to tell himself?

Yuri face twisted. “I’m not going to cry. I fucking hate crying, I’m not going to cry.” He sniffled, holding a hand over his eyes. He grit his teeth, his bottom lip between his teeth. “Damn it all, I’m not going to cry. Especially in front of those soldiers. Not going to give them the satisfaction.”

Otabek wrapped his arms around Yuri, stilling the shudders of his shoulders. Enveloping him in his warmth.

But nothing lasts forever.

The carriage came to a stop. One last sickening thud of the wheels, the carriage rocking for a moment before stilling. Cool air stopped rushing between the cracks. An odd quiet overcame them, the rumble of the wheels unable to drown out the noise of the people, the beat of his own heart in his ears.

Yuri began to breathe through his teeth, heavy shallow breaths, as if he was trying to flood the air to stop it from drowning him.

“Beka- Beka-“ he gripped him frantically, eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t let them take me-” he breathed, in and out, controlled breathing, but his chest heaved. “Don’t let them take me-“

“I won’t.” Otabek said, pulled him closer. Something wet prickled at the corner of his eyes, and he bit it down, chewing, swallowing. He took in air through his noise, memorizing the scent of peppermint, honey, and pear. He shouldn’t need to, but he memorized it, printing it out in his brain, carving it into his memory.

“Don’t let them take me-“ he repeated.

“I won’t, I won’t let them.” He needed to remain calm, but his heart pounded away in his chest. He could hear it in his ears, a constant horrible thrum of panic.

“Fucking liar,” mumbled Yuri, turning into his chest. “I’m staying with you. So don’t let them take me away from you.”

Otabek clung tighter, his heart tugging painfully. Yuri squeezed tight enough for it to hurt, and Otabek let it hurt. The physically pain grounded him, even while the tears slid down his cheeks.

“Come out,” muttered Seung-gil, and in a sudden moment they were bathed in afternoon light as the door swung open. Hot, sticky air rushed out, a breeze cooled the sweat on his brow. He shivered, goosebumps prickling his legs as he turned to greet the outside word.

Seung-gil, as always, was cold. “Hurry up.” He said, raising an eyebrow. Yuri glared, clutching on Otabek’s forearm.

“Beka-“ he choked, and Otabek held on just as tight.

“I’ll-“

“The fairy first.” Said Seung-gil, holding out the door. “Walk. We don’t have all day.” There was no malice in his voice, but it struck him cold all the same.

“Beka,” said Yuri, digging his fingernails in. He sighed, a shaky, cold sigh that tensed his shoulders. “It’s fine. I’ll go.”

“No-“ He protested, and Yuri’s nails pressed hard enough into his flesh to leave bruises.

“You better step outside.” Warned Seung-gil. He gave Otabek a tired look. “Don’t make me force you, nobody wants that.”

The hand carefully fell from his arm. He wanted to grab his hand, to hold on, but he was already walking, and now there was space between them. His heart jumped up into his throat, his neck. Yuri’s wings, just the edge, brushed against his hands.

Yuri gave him one last desperate look, before stepping out. That look in his eyes, it burned into his own, bright and green. A horrible, sinking feeling, crawling up his skin, guilt and disgust coated with thick layers of awful sickness.

He only had to wait a few minutes until they would get him. Pulling his limp wrists behind his back, tying them together with rope that scratched up his skin. His heart wouldn’t settle, something felt wrong inside him.

They tugged on his wrists, and he had to fight the urge to vomit. The sun was much too bright, and he had to close his eyes, if only to gain focus for a second.

Focus.

Focus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anything, this early chapter is indication that things for me should be getting back on track! I hope you all liked that! See you again soon! <3 <3!


	20. I can walk the ocean floor and never have to breathe.  Life doesn't frighten me at all, not at all, not at all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” she said, gleaming. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
> 
> He did, although, he didn’t exactly want to go back there.
> 
> But that wasn’t what she was offering, right? Despite the alcohol, or perhaps because of it, he nodded. She grinned, and tapped his lips. He finished his drink.
> 
> She twined their hands together. Her waist was tightly wrapped, but she bounded up the stairs. He felt a degree of nervousness. He had an idea of what was happening, but his head was so tired. His bones were heavy in his skin, but her bright golden eyes set another part of him on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy :D

Otabek couldn’t pay much attention as they dragged him off. He struggled for a moment, pushing away at the hands that grabbed him. He didn’t want to go! His limbs were tired and weak, chest throbbing at the movement. He didn’t want to go! But they pulled at him until he conceded.

Frantically, he looked around, twisting his wrists to see. He’d be easy to spot, tall, his long pale hair peaking up over the crowds.

But there was nothing.                                                                                                              

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing he could do.

Absolutely nothing.

The ropes on his hands tightened. Anymore, and the tough fibers would start cutting into his skin. Fear filled him, almost animal-like in nature. It made him wobble, stagger to his feet, forced him to take each step into his cell.

A cell.

Another cage.

The floor was hard and cold beneath him, and as they eased away the ropes, he pressed the burns to them. His hands throbbed, hot wrists and cool fingers.

_Click!_

Trapped again.

 

*

 

Otabek Altin had been an animal before.

It was oddly familiar.

Woke up in a terrible shiver, cold sweat over his back. The floor wasn’t enough to cool him down. His chest was bursting to the brim with crawling heat, swelling and simmering under his ribs. Each throb pressed him down into the stone.

When his mother had died, he had been able to hide it behind manors and silence. Carefully poised over him, waiting for a momentary loss of control.

He couldn’t remember the first battle, only able to recall his commander punishing him over his reckless behavior, and the hot flush of anger that came right before he faded out. His wild anger only made him curl away even more.

Otabek _breathed._ Until the moisture came in droplets, he did. His lungs felt _awful_. Swarming with pain, the snap of his muscles never hesitated to burn. They were, no doubt, on fire.

 

*

 

_All he remembered was the feeling in his blood. There was nothing else. They’d told him everything he’d done, and he had no choice but to believe them._

_The building up of pain._

_Allowing himself off that leash, not reining himself back as he slashed and hacked, blood filling every inch of his vision. Otabek saw in red, white, and black, stark burning beautiful colors against his eyelids. Perfectly bold, and perfectly gut retching._

_He hadn’t believed them until he saw the damage himself. Large purple bruises blossoming on his chest, on his ribs. Red welts on his arms like medallions. The cut on his ear, and the blue-white of his knuckles. Victor stared, clenching his jaw._

_“Hopefully, that was the last time.” Said Victor, tucking his long silver hair into his jacket. He shivered, eyes still on his hands. He wanted to reach forward, to pull them closer to examine them. But he stood back, and looked on. “I don’t want to sound like Yakov, but you can’t do that.”_

_“I don’t remember doing any of it.”_

_Victor doesn’t look like he believes him, but nods anyway._

 

*

 

Otabek is brought a small bucket of lukewarm water, and a cloth to wash himself with. He eased himself up off the thin blanket, rubbing his arms. The cool stone had turned his arms to ice, and he rubbed them quickly to bring back his blood flow.

Gods, he stunk.

A guard watched silently as he washed himself, careful not to spill any water on the floor. The vine didn’t hurt anymore, only a gentle deep throb throughout his chest. It was concerning, but at least it wasn’t painful. Any more distractions and he’d barely be able to sleep.

He cursed, gently dabbing the cloth over the soft vine. It oozed, stinking. His own stench, he could ignore, but this was vile, rotting green awfulness.

Otabek should be scared. He should have been, it was horrible. This was infected, badly. It could kill him, but the panic was offset. Maybe the days (or had it been weeks, there was no sunlight here) of sitting between these gray walls had turned his mind to slate.

He drifted back, allowing himself to be taken away.

 

*

 

_He stumbled there. His feet wouldn’t keep up with his legs, fumbling underneath his feet. Or were his feet fumbling under his legs? No matter, it was too dark for anyone to see him like this._

_He fought back against the tears, even as the pale water came down over his bones. Otabek sniffed, and held himself together in the moonlight._

_He’d done it for others. He did it for his king, but there was no use in denying that it was he who had drawn his sword and stuck it through the other man. There was nothing else he could do but watch on in horror as the man before him struggled, coughing up blood. Screaming in his suffering, the words, “Bastard! Bastard!” becoming more and more indistinct with every rendition. Until it was a trill of moans, then nothing._

_Eyes blank against the soft, hoof-churned soil._

_His yellow gaze blinked out into the darkness, just wishing he could reach inside and pull out this horrible feeling of guilt. It didn’t sit comfortably, much the opposite. How could the others be so giddy? How could they go on, witness to the same outcome over and over without going mad?_

_He was certainly going to go crazy at this rate._

_Before he could think, he walked into the bar._

_It was quiet, and warm, which is something he could appreciate. He sat on a stool, only lifting his eyes to order something hard to drink. Something to burn as it went down. Clear the scent of the day from his stomach and windpipe._

_He took his drink, and then another. The murky taste wasn’t anything to envy, pure, cool, and stale. It was perfect, allowing his head to droop and start to spin._

_Her eyes, deep as molten amber, peered across the bar table. Curious, they felt like they were reaching over, carefully examining him. She stared, pausing, poised over. It wasn’t without warmth, there was definitely something warm in her gaze, but nothing particularly emotional._

_But he looked on in interest. She was beautiful, coppery skin that grew deep and smooth in candle light. It resembled caramel, so much so that Otabek could imagine dipping into her skin and tasting sugar on his fingers._

_She smiled, and his heart leapt up into his stomach._

_“Hi,” she said, waving a hand. Who me? He thought. She laughed, soft and bubbly._

_She touched his jaw, running down with her fingers. His breath caught in his throat, and she pressed down carefully on the lump of his throat. Something alluring hung in her gaze, her pupils wide and open in the firelight._

_The women took a sip of his drink, tightening at the taste._

_“So,” she said, gleaming. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”_

_He did, although, he didn’t exactly want to go back there._

_But that wasn’t what she was offering, right? Despite the alcohol, or perhaps because of it, he nodded. She grinned, and tapped his lips. He finished his drink._

_She twined their hands together. Her waist was tightly wrapped, but she bounded up the stairs. He felt a degree of nervousness. He had an idea of what was happening, but his head was so tired. His bones were heavy in his skin, but her bright golden eyes set another part of him on fire._

_He’d never even kissed before, so she laughed when he sloppily kissed her chin, then lips, bumping teeth. She corrected him, tugging on his neck, positioning his lips until he understood._

_They clawed at each other, hungry. Succumbing to some selfish animal desire in him. Barely aware as the woman pulled him apart._

_Maybe a part of him resented her soft hands and warm body, but the rest of him didn’t seem to mind. Because there she was, perfect features, soft full breasts, sinking down on him. She dripped like caramel, and he couldn’t help leaning in to taste her against his tongue._

_He didn’t last long, melting into the bed._

_Otabek was whittled down, sharp and gritty. The woman finished as well, gathering herself at his side, stretching her legs. She lit a bunt over the candle flame, and played at the smoke. Dirty, a dusty scent, he felt the brief edge of horror start to seep in, it’s harsh gaze over his._

_She breathed. His panic was evident._

_“Was this your first time?” She asked._

_“Yes,” he said quickly, and she laughed. Another smooth, quick as lightning chill went through him, then another, this one slow. Like the cool scrape of fingernails over the bumps of his spine._

_“I haven’t done this in a while. It’s not like it matters.” She laughed again. She did that a lot, soft and fluttery. Liquid spilling down his shoulders, warm and gentle. It’s owner, on the other hand, was disappointed. She was quiet, a hand strewn across her belly, still naked. The woman sucked up the last of the bunt, putting it out. “You can stay for the rest of the night,” she said, snuggling into his side. “But you need to leave in the morning.”_

_He nodded, swallowing. The hammering of his heart is distracting, distorting. He blinked. In the light of the candle, they would have looked like honey, or perhaps if you were feeling more cynical, like large caramel drops seeping into the pillows._

 

*

 

Hands were on him, warm hands, impossibly warm hands. Hands on fire, pulling off his shirt. He couldn’t see their faces, he couldn’t see very well at all. Dim lights flickered above, and Otabek could barely hold his eyes open enough to him to see it.

A woman muttered something, waiting, then yelling back.

Why was she so angry? He was just laying here. He wasn’t even fighting back. His limbs were stuck, heavy and limp.

She pushed on his chest, hard, and he coughed up. She made him spit, then eased his head back down.

How many people were in the room?

Yuri wasn’t in the room.

Yuri wasn’t here.

At this point, the fairy felt almost like a vision. Beautiful, appositely stunning waist length blond hair. Eyes that were made of pure crystalline that he’d seen on the necks of queens, thin and flexible limbs. Lanky, tall, graceful, with long feet and rounded ears. Snapping remarks, gentle hands, bitter words, and soft embraces. And those strong wings, just like large stained glass windows, lean as bug wings. Every bit of him made Otabek want him more.

Yuri should be here. Yuri should be in his arms, in his bed.

Arms grabbed him, pulling him up, and his head plummeted.

 

*

 

**_Was it supposed to be this dark?_ **

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**_Yuri?_ **

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

When he opens his eyes, it takes a while for him to figure out that he’s left his cell.

The room was _so_ warm, the cloth beneath him warm to the touch. He felt it between his fingers, rubbing the fibers together.

Otabek felt himself drifting off again, the warmth made it hard not to. His fever still burned inside of him, but had dulled to careful easy thuds. Opening his eyes completely he looked. The room was rather small, and the window was drawn over tightly. A couple candles lined the table beside him, mostly covered in books, but stacked neatly. The pleasant scent of the candles, oaky and fragrant, calmed his heart, if only a little.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Said a woman, loud enough to nearly make him jump. She looked at him from the other side of his bed, blinking. Her hair was tied back, away from her face, but messy strands hung over her deep, almost purple eyes.

“Sara?” He asked, looking back at her with probably the same level of shock. Sara broke out in a grin, practically bounding. She stood up from her chair, leaning forward to sit beside him.

How many years had it been? She looked as young as ever, but a large flat disk of silver rested over her neck. The priestess reached forward, down to his stomach.

“Oh, careful!” She cried, pushing back at him when he tried to ease himself up. “I just fixed that up, don’t pull my stitches out! They’ve only been in for a few days.”

Stitches? Wait…

It was gone, missing. Vanished. A pit sank down in his stomach. A gentle dip followed by tight lacing over his ribs. The string was thick, and tugged at his skin when he leaned up to look at it.

“Did you…?”

“Yes, I was able to get it out. Only after a lot of work. That fairy must have been pretty damn powerful to do that!” She said, pointing at his stomach. “It was curled up all the way to here. We almost killed you trying to get it out.”

Get it out? It had been infecting him, but that was a piece of Yuri. A reminder binded into his flesh, and now…

“It’s really good to see you again,” she said. “It’s been far too long. When I saw you down there, I didn’t know…” She didn’t finish the thought, shaking her head. “But you should be okay now.”

“Yu- The fairy.” He mumbled, biting his lip. “I thought it was being kept a secret.”

“Are you kidding?” She cried. “The King is trying to keep it under wraps, but everyone knows.”

If he had any energy left in him, it all vanished.

Damn it, he was really getting sick of this. He swore, quickly, under his breath.

“I didn’t believe it at first. But I’m sure nearly half the city saw him trying to fly out the castle window.”

“Castle?” He cried. “What?”

“Yeah, he’s staying in the castle.”

“What?!” Each word was like a sharp prod to the side. The castle, the king’s castle? “Is he okay, is he safe?”

“I- he looked fine.” She said, turning. Sara gathered up her purple robes, pulling them around her. “I only- well that’s not entirely true-“ she said, placing a finger on her lips, eyes narrowing. “I suppose it should be okay to tell you.”

“Sara- just-“

“Yes, yes, but let me think for a moment.” She said, immediately shushing him. “I only saw him once, and he looked fine.”

“Really?” He asked, almost pleading. He needed to know this, he needed to know, and she couldn’t lie to him.

“He is fine. Don’t worry about that.”

He felt the cry leave him, a single haughty wretched sick heave of emotion. Bursting relief and pain within him, straining, then coming forth over his cheeks. Sara’s eye’s widened, arms coming around to cradle him.

They were happy tears, stressful tears, nothing to worry about. Yuri was fine, he was almost sure of it. The priestess was under oath; lying was forbidden, and even while that was a shitty thing to stake his lover’s life on, he could do little else.

So he cried, only a little. She held him until the tears came in a steady trickle.

“Ha,” she mumbled, looking away. “That’s what that was.”

He pressed his palms into his eyes. “What?” he muttered, sniffling.

“The bond. I’m no expert, but Phichit noticed the vine.”

“Phichit?”

“Well you don’t know him, but he’s cool.” She said, smiling gently. “He came here recently. You two are definitely going to have a chat. Especially about this.” She poked at his scar. “I wouldn’t have been able to get this out if it weren’t for him.” Her head cocked, and she leaned down at him from her elbows. “So, a fairy, huh? And a man, interesting.”

“No-“

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type,” she said brightly. “No one really knows the specifics about the bond, other than Phichit and I, of course.” Sara winked, standing. “It is a very interesting idea. The fairy thing, not the other thing. You really need to talk to Phichit, he’ll probably explain things a lot better than I.”

“Oh no,” he muttered. “You’re very comprehensive.”

She gasped. “Is that sarcasm I detect?”

“Not at all.”

She shook her head, grinning. “It’s really great to see you. I’ll go get him, he’ll clear everything up. Oh, and eat.” A large tray of food was placed on his lap, piled with several slices of soft white bread, anchovy spread, a thick chunk of butter layered over toast, and pastry coated in honey. He was almost dribbling at just the sight. “Your stomach might not be used to it, so eat slowly.”

As soon as she left, he scoffed down two pieces of bread, quickly swallowing. He chewed, relishing the texture in his mouth. The wonderful saline taste of anchovies and the butter melting on his tongue. Otabek made sure to lick up each and every last crumb.

Only when he came to the pastry, he stopped, talking a long second to admire it. He dipped his finger into the pool of honey that had dripped off onto the plate, and groaned as he felt the sweet taste burst over his tongue.

He gripped it between his fingers, gently pressing in with his nails to feel that crunch.

He didn’t want to describe it with words such as orgasmic, or intoxicating, but by god it was close.

Otabek took it, ripping through it with his teeth, citrus sweet enough to send him spinning. It was enough to make him see colors behind his eyelids, and he couldn’t help himself, he stuffed the rest into his mouth, chewing and swallowing.

When it came up again a minute later, he was still grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem is by Maya Angelou. Seriously, she's great, check her out!


	21. Well, let them seize on all they can. One treasure still is mine. A heart that loves to think on thee, and feels the worth of thine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek eased himself forward, and he carefully licked up the last bits of honey from his plate. Aware of his nausea, he did so slowly, and watched his stomach. The hunger had been unbearable. Just in the presence of food, he’d lost his mind.
> 
> How much weight had he lost? His stomach felt hollow, full of rib bones and air. Trimmed shoulders, and hardened arms and legs. Any soft edge he had possessed before was gone, the fat sapped from his body.
> 
> So damn sweet.
> 
> It took a moment for his taste buds to adjust to the taste, spreading warmth across his tongue, then tinges of sweetness. It filled his mouth, sinking into his gums. He’d probably be able to taste if for days after, the tangy flavor. Even while he finished, saliva saturated his tongue, sticky like something he’d never had.
> 
> It was perfect, or as close to perfection that he could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only have five minutes to upload this before I have to leave, so I'll make this quick!
> 
> I really can't wait for these next few chapters, they are honestly some of my favourite bits, and I can't wait to share it all with you!

He didn’t have to stay by himself for long. It was perhaps only a few minutes, maybe an hour at most. Otabek sat back against the pillow, candles glazing the room in yellow and grey shadows. It felt… nice.

The scent was all wrong though. He missed his peppermint smell, pear perfume and honey overtones that turned him into a puddle. Despite himself, he smiled, bittersweet and sad.

This loneliness was awful. Yuri had suffered through it for how many years, and just this time apart was too much. He wanted to be gathered his arms. Fuck this loneliness. It wouldn’t kill him, even as it felt like it would.

Later, three years from now, however, this would seem infinitely small in comparison. He’d laugh at his younger self, the heartbreak was so damn small. A few days is nothing in the face of a year.

But he was sure he’d see Yuri again soon.

He was sure.

Right?

They had given him food, cleaned his wounds, kept him alive. Hope, although small and dainty, clung to his chest, unwilling to budge.

If he didn’t hope, he’d crumble under his own weight.

Otabek eased himself forward, and he carefully licked up the last bits of honey from his plate. Aware of his nausea, he did so slowly, and watched his stomach. The hunger had been unbearable. Just in the presence of food, he’d lost his mind.

How much weight had he lost? His stomach felt hollow, full of rib bones and air. Trimmed shoulders, and hardened arms and legs. Any soft edge he had possessed before was gone, the fat sapped from his body.

So damn sweet.

It took a moment for his taste buds to adjust to the taste, spreading warmth across his tongue, then tinges of sweetness. It filled his mouth, sinking into his gums. He’d probably be able to taste if for days after, the tangy flavor. Even while he finished, saliva saturated his tongue, sticky like something he’d never had.

It was perfect, or as close to perfection that he could get.

Even though he had just vomited it up, right into the bucket placed beside the sink, the food had reinvigorated him. The room was light, floaty beneath his feet, and he could bathe in that feeling.

Yuri, in the castle?

They were probably investigating him. But if they had hurt him, Otabek would- he’d have to hurt someone. Someone would be hurt, and he’d make damn sure that it wouldn’t be Yuri. And he had tried to fly from the window.

It wasn’t looking too good.

Only a knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. He sat up, heart pounding. Thick, pure pain echoed up his chest, and he cried out. The quick movement had shifted something inside him, twisting his insides.

The figure rushed in, frantically opening the door.

“Calm down!” He said, placing his tray down on the desk in a hurry before nearly falling over the books strewn across the floor. The man held onto the desk for dear life, clutching his chest with the other hand. “Don’t lean up that quick!” He panted, wide eyed. “Oh gods, be careful!” Not too gracefully, the thin man scrambled to his feet.

Otabek sighed, sinking back down.

Shhh.

“Ah… I think Sara told you about me!” He said, a touch too bright. “Phichit. Magic scholar. Yeah… I’m sure she told you…” he trailed off. “Can I have a look at that wound? Seriously, don’t pull up like that again, you could hurt yourself!”

He lifted his shirt, closing his eyes. Easy, careful hands ran over his skin, then suddenly pressed down on his stomach.

“Does it hurt here?” he asked, prodding. “Even a little?”

“No,”

“Alright… here?” He pressed down closer to the stitches. “Sorry, I’m trying not to make it too painful.”

The pain was at a slight prickle, so he nodded. Phichit pulled his hands away.

“It looks like it’s healing okay,” he said, biting his lip. “I think!”

Otabek really didn’t want any more hands on him, and he turned, searching for something to wear. It was getting a bit colder, the night filtering in through the stone walls. Phichit gave him a shirt, and he put it on.

“When can I see him?” the man looked a little surprised, as if he didn’t expect that to be the first thing to come out of his mouth.

“I’m sure you’ll get to see him again soon,” said Phichit, smiling. “I think we just need to have a chat first.”

Chat? That didn’t sound too bad. As long as it was only a chat.

“So!” he said, lacing his hands together, sitting back on his chair. Then he giggled, short and sweet. “You can relax, I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and then we can figure out what happens from there. There’s no reason to stress, this isn’t going to hurt!”

Of course, he would also say that if there was a reason. That smile, full of cheek, dug at him.

“Alright,”

“Great.” Said Phichit, still smiling. “Otabek, right?”

“Yes.”

“I saw you a couple times, but I don’t think you ever saw me!” said Phichit, dimple poking through his words. “Standing beside the King. I wasn’t really… in public. There are very few people outside this castle that know I exist. So,” he said, leaning over to grab a tray, then placing it down on Otabek’s lap. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about me. That’s pretty much it!” said Phichit, pointing at the bread on his plate. “You should eat before we begin, I can practically see your ribs!”

“Why?” he said between bites, eating slowly.

“Well, that’s an even longer story…”

“Nevermind,” he said, sighing. “Don’t… just get this over with.”

Phichit tapped his foot absentmindedly while they spoke, unable to keep still for even a moment.

“Are you two lovers?”

Otabek bit his lips at the word. It was perfectly fine, but it didn’t really fit, did it? Hadn’t they done it all the wrong ways? He loved Yuri, more than anything at this point. The word lovers, it felt a bit cheap to describe it that way. First friends, then lovers, then the unexpected (at least, on his part) bond. It had to be something more than lovers…

“Yes, you could say that,” he said, slowly, thinking.

“Right…so it was voluntary?” He said. “Ah- consensual? Your bond, I mean!” His cheeks went a bit red, but it did nothing to the quirk of his lips. “Not to say it could have been done with bad intent! It can be a mistake and-“

“No, no.” he mumbles, brushing him off. “No, it was.”

“Good,” said Phichit, biting down his smirk. “No, that’s great!” He grabbed his parchment, scribbling something down. Looking up, Otabek could almost see a glow in his eyes. “If…” he said, a finger over his lips. “You want, later on, I can restore that bond for you!”

“What?” He said, the word clogging his throat.

“Yes, well, it was only one way before. He was bonded to you, but you were never really bonded to him.” Phichit pointed to his wrists. “See, when those marks were put on, you wouldn’t have felt the bond snap. And if it’s only one way, he can read your thoughts, and you can’t read his.”

“Right.” He could restore the bond, and make it work both ways? It made his head feel a bit dizzy.

He wanted the bond, Otabek did, but to have it both ways would change things.

“I’ll- if I’m allowed- take off the marks, and you two can bond,” his face flushed again, pink rising to the tips of his ears. “And then I can bond you to him! It’s not too hard, I think,” he said. “Besides, someone needs to substitute the bond from your side, since, you don’t have any magic, do you…”

“No.”

“Hm.” Phichit thought for a moment, before opening his mouth. “I’ll have to do some research, but it could be done. I’ve read about it, a few times. Only if you both want that.”

“I do.” He stated, staring at the man. “I- I do want that. If it’s possible.” Phichit broke out into a bright smile, nodding.

“I’d love to help you two, if I can! Although, I wouldn’t exactly advice spreading around the nature of your relationship around here. I don’t think that many people will be accommodating, if you know what I mean!”

“I’m aware.” He said, and Phichit nodded.

“Good, because I’d hate to try and sort that mess out.” He stood up, grabbing something from his desk. “Can I get another look at that wound?”

Not exactly containing the energy to argue, he simply pulled up his shirt, revealing the crease in his side. For nearly a year, it had sat in his side and now…

“Where is the vine?” he asked, and the man’s eyes flickered up, eyes creasing.

“I sent most of it to the academy. I kept a small amount for myself,” he sighed, tugging on the strings, checking around the wound for something. “Sorry, it must have been something personal for you, but they did give me the medicine I used. It was the deal I cut.” He pulled back, making sure to look him directly in the eyes, the color of molten toffee. “I can give you that piece if you want, if you let me study it first?” he asked, voice twisting off into a squeak.

Otabek shrugged, jumping slightly while he tightened the strings. “It’s fine, I don’t need it.”

“Are you sure? I understand if you want to have it as a memento.” His eyes weren’t glossy, but a tinge of sadness hung at the edge of his pupil, seeping into his voice.

“It’s alright, I don’t need it.” The man didn’t say anything, but the edge of his mouth curled, and he had a crinkle in his eye.

“This is some seriously complex stuff,” he said, after a moment.

“Really?” It didn’t seem that sophisticated, but how was he to tell.

“It is very crude.” Said Phichit, poking gently at the stiches. “And I’ve never even heard of something like this! Combining both the basics of healing and bonding to substitute a higher level of healing, it’s genius!” He looked up excitedly, grinning. “I don’t think you understand how extraordinary this is! I haven’t met anyone like that before! Especially when you consider the circumstances!” He cried, almost buzzing.

“Circumstances?” Otabek asked. The man was so excitable it was almost contagious. And he had spoken with Yuri? He would have loved to see that conversation.

“Doing this in the middle of the woods, that’s already difficult.” He cleaned off his hands, scrubbing vigorously while he talked “Sure, you have the sun, but only half the time, and you never know when the weather will get bad. Doing it with no backup, or help? It’s amazing!”

Otabek stared down at the wound. He’d never really considered that before. At first it had seemed like an inconvenience, with the whole talk of poisoning that Yuri had given him in the beginning. Then he had seen how the vine adjusted, fitting to him, protecting him and winding him back together. It had become a part of his life. He didn’t need to think about it.

“Crude, yes-“ said Phichit, jumping to his feet to grab a vial. “But very, very creative. He has amazing natural ability, I’d love to see what he’d become if he went under official training!” His eyes lit up, fingers almost trembling. “And I thought I was good!”

Otabek huffed. Yuri was more than good.  He was amazing.

“He is a fairy.” Said Otabek, lifting his shirt. “He does have a natural advantage, after all.”

“Oh, I definitely have an advantage!” Said Phichit, smiling mischievously. “I’m not entirely human, so there’s that too.” He hummed nonchalantly, rubbing the last of the salve into the stitches.

He raised an eyebrow, looking him over. Right before he felt the bottom of his stomach drop to the floor. No pointed ears. Wait… no, it couldn’t be…

“No-“

“Yup,” he said, smirking. “Officially, there are two fae in this kingdom. Have a guess at who the other is.”

“Are you serious?” he mumbled.

He raised an eyebrow. “You want to see them.” Grinning manically. “You can look, I don’t mind!”

“No, it’s fine.” He protested weakly. “You don’t need-“

“It’s alright, you can be curious!” Phichit shrugged him off, tugging on his shirt. He pulled the white shirt off, revealing his back.

There were two, small translucent wings in the middle of his back, each one the length of two hands. Starting just below his shoulder blades they stood, spindly and delicate-looking. They were a lot smaller than Yuri’s, whose large green wings were longer than his arm from root to tip. He doubted those small things could be used to fly.

“Are-“ his voice cracked. “Half… human?”

“Mm,” hummed Phichit, nodding. “Human mother, fairy father. It was a bit of a shock when she found out! But they made it work.” He let Otabek look for a moment more, before pulling on his shirt, buttoning it back up. “They managed to make it through the war, but they died a couple years later. To be honest, I didn’t really know what I was for years!” He laughed, gesturing to his back. “They are a bit small, aren’t they?”

“I-…” How did he respond to this? A strange urge to smile came about him, building up from the inside.

“Hah, don’t worry!” said Phichit. “I’m not offended, and besides, I don’t have a real use for flying! It would be pretty cool though…”

“How...”

Phichit paused, waited for him to finish, to formulate, but his throat felt dry. Otabek croaked, closing his mouth.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be so shocked!” Phichit grinned gleefully. “Aww, I love seeing these reactions.”

“There’s only….” He cleared his throat, frowning. “Does Yuri know?”

“Ha, I’m the only one he’s talked to. I had to show them to him on the spot before he strangled me!” Phichit laughed, softly chuckling. “I don’t blame him, I tried to do the same thing when I first came here.”

“Is he fine?” he asked. “Is he eating?” Yes, that was the most important. He needed to eat. Otabek hoped he was getting food as good as he was getting it now.

Phichit bit his lip. “I don’t know. I haven’t been around him too much, and always through a door. Tell you what,” he said, standing. “I’ll try to get permission, and while we wait, we can eat!”

Otabek already felt stuffed from that bread, even while it had been so little. He drank a small amount of milk along with his meal, eating slowly, while the half-fairy ate ravenously. He smeared his bread thick with butter and jam, taking small bites and chewing so it wouldn’t disturb his stomach.

Phichit gave a message at the door, and then they waited. He had almost fallen asleep, eyes drifting over the books and the parchment on the desk, when a loud knock on the door woke him from his stupor.

“Coming!” He called, tripping over another pile of books on the floor.

Two guards, and unease began to settle within him. With the frequency with which this happened, he was surprised his blood wasn’t made of the stuff.

Phichit spoke quietly with the two behind him. He sighed heavily. “Sorry, I’m going to have to tie you,” he said, frowning. He turned to the guards behind him. “Do I really have to? Can’t you two just walk behind him?”

The guard raised her eyebrow. “Do you want to see him.”

“Yes,” he replied immediately, and the guard nodded.

“Then we can’t walk you through the castle unless you’re tied.” The guard shrugged. “Don’t forget that you’re a prisoner here.”

He dug his fingers into his hair, the slight tugging pain able to keep him grounded. Otabek couldn’t make demands; he wasn’t it that position anymore.

When he had lived in the castle, and as a lord protector, he did have power. It was no more clear than now. He hadn’t used it, but he had possessed it. If he had wanted, he could have had so much. Otabek could even have taken advantage of that.

So he offered his hands, allowing Phichit to twist his wrists together.

They entered through the back of the castle. The room he’d been in was close by, an old storehouse full of books. It wasn’t a long walk, and the late noon light felt cool on his skin.

It was strange to be back here, without any of that. His shoulders hung, stuck ridged in the memory and constant repetition. His body didn’t know it was a prisoner, being back here. As he entered through the doors, he felt his back straighten, eyes dropping to the thick red carpet.

It was as if he’d had something pushed along his spine, and despite the slight irritation in his back, he couldn’t hold it down, old training clicking his bones back into shape.

“Is this okay?” Asked Phichit, frowning. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

“No, I’m good.”

“I’m really sorry for this,” said Phichit, sighing deeply. “I can’t believe I have to do this, it just feels so wrong…”

They walked their way through corridors, past doors and windows. Eventually, though, they came to one, at the very end of the corridor.

“Go on,” said the guard. “The door isn’t locked, you can go.”

Phichit gave him a fearful look, only one, before he let the rope slide from his wrists. “There,” he whispered. “Open the door.”

Otabek, hesitant in anticipation and mistrust, grabbed the door handle. He trembles, vision swimming. Right as he twisted open the handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! See you all next chapter <3 <3!


	22. Laugh at the night, at the day, at this clumsy boy who loves you. Deny me bread, air, light, spring, but never your laughter, for I would die.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you thinking now?” Asked Yuri, watching the smile break out onto his features.
> 
> “I was thinking about how beautiful you look.” That made Yuri’s eyes roll, but he grinned all the same, kissing the tip of his nose
> 
> “Beautiful?”
> 
> “Magnificent.” He confirmed, showering him in affection and kisses. Otabek leaned in, accidentally pressing his knee up against Yuri’s crotch. They paused, stock still in the candle lit room. He flushed the blush coursing up his face faster than anything.
> 
> It was clear he was hard. That wasn’t a problem, but Yuri immediately became bashful, covering up his face with his hands in embarrassment.
> 
> “Oh,” he said, and curled in on himself a bit, turning away. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean it. You are impossible to get used to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did change the summary, don't worry! It's just a minor change.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

He lay on his stomach, large green wings coming up out of his shoulders through his clothing. A book under his arms, the soft light of candles spilling across the paper. The moment the door swung open, he had looked up, green eyes glaring. Like he was expecting something else.

Then he saw.

“Yuri,” He croaked, and almost immediately he felt a wave of relief rush through him. They hadn’t harmed him, he could see the white bandage poking out from his short sleeve. The book underneath him, they’d given it to him. Had they locked him up? Why was he here, and thank the gods he was! That scent, pure clean peppermint. His skin seemed to glow, bright as sunlight. Scrubbed clean of dirt and blood and sweat.

Yuri sucked in a breath, and then didn’t. He paused, lips opening as if to say something, then closing. He visibly softened, eyes quickly becoming watery. But he was still, flickering back from the door to Beka. Swallowing, he pulled himself up. “Close the door.” He said gently, trembling fingers coming to rest in his fists.

“Can’t, we have-“

“Beka, gods-“ he was about to stand, to embrace Otabek, but the door was wide swung. He glared, noting the guards, then Phichit. “Gods be damned, get out!” Phichit looked between them, and crossed his arms. He gave them a sly grin, then turning to close the door. The guards behind him almost began to protest, but he rolled his eyes. “It’s fine,” he said. “What are they going to do, come on. There isn’t even a window.”

“Sir, we have-“

“I get it,” he said, grinning with teeth now. “You have orders,” His hand came to rest against the door handle. “But do you really want to go against my orders? I’m sure you don’t want me to use them!” Something in his gaze made the guards stop.

“Right,” she said, stepping back. “Right, sorry.”

“No apology necessary,” he said, winking. “Now, I’m going to close this door, and I’ll lock it, okay? Is that enough security?”

The guard went red. “Yes,” he mumbled. “It should be enough.”

“Great!” Said Phichit, beaming with the light of a thousand suns. He turned, pulling on the door handle. “Sorry about that,” he muttered to Otabek. “Sometimes they need a little encouragement!” And with that, the door was pulled shut. The quick clink of the lock shutting, and then the step of feet walking away.

The candle was nearly knocked onto the floor in his scramble. The moment he felt the arms around his own, his heart leapt, a broken shock of pain through his stomach. Yuri’s arms were tight, and it bit into him.

“Beka,” He cried, pulling him in. Tears ran down his cheeks, unhinged by days of separation. Yuri sobbed, shook in his arms, and he couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t doing the same. He looked up, green eyes glowing through the tears, still unbearably beautiful. “Otabek, are you okay? Are you okay, please-“

“I’m fine, I promise-“ Otabek choked back a cry, and grinned through his tears. “Yura, you look beautiful, did they-“

Yuri sniffled, and laughed. Red patches came up under his skin, just as his heart pounded, and joy filled his chest. “Yeah, I feel great! Now that you’re here at least!” His lip trembled, and the tears flew harder. “Fuck, gods Otabek!”

“Yuri-“

“No, no, let me just-“ Yuri sighed, his voice quaking. “I just need to calm down.”

Yuri’s hair was soft between his fingers, smooth and glossy. The scent of soap permeated the air. Delicate and lilac. He brushed it out with his hands, always careful not to pull on the tangles. He worked them out, undoing the knots. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re safe, you’re fine, I’ve got you-“

“I know, I know, Beka, I’m…” Yuri’s chin dug into his shoulder. His wings fluttered in quick motions, and came to rest against Otabek’s hands. He sighed shakily, warm breath against his ear. Otabek ran a thumb against his wing. The touch brought him comfort, and he relaxed. With an intake of breath, he sank, burying his face into Otabek’s collar bone.

The prickle of tears in his eyes would only fade if they were shed. A droplet came down, over his chin. He had cried, only a minute ago, but it hit him like he was nothing. When it fell, trickling down Yuri’s neck, Yuri’s grip tightened.

“Dumbass, I was worried about you!” He shuddered, still hiding his face in his chest. His wings twitched. They stood, stock-still against his back. Unmoving. “Please, I- I need time. For my body to catch up with my heart, give me time.” Rough whispers that made his heart clench.

“Alright.” Otabek exhaled, pulling him snug against his chest. “Alright, shh.” Now he was properly crying again, childlike in the way they dripped, drying sticky on his face. Anything could have happened to Yuri, they could have done anything, and he would have had no way to stop it from happening. They could have killed him. They could have. He had no power over this situation, and it was frustrating and heartbreaking.

“Can we just,” he said, pulling back for a second. His eyes flickered upwards, their gaze meeting in the middle. “Can we lie down? My heart is going crazy,” he let out a watery chuckle.

The bed was wider than the one in their cabin. Otabek tossed the blanket over them, crawling closer until they were breathing the same air. It gathered, damp between their clutched hands. Otabek carefully shrugged off his shirt, hissing as the material brushed passed his wound. He helped Yuri out of his, minding the wings.

“What-“

“Skin contact,” he said, wrapping him closer in their embrace. “It might help.” He had heard enough about fairies being clingy in his books. Familiar contact was a comfort to most people, but more so for the fae. The journal alone, with the mentions of fairies clambering over the guy in the morning, to the children curiously exploring his hair. It had Otabek thinking. Just a theory, obviously. But he could see the heartbeat in Yuri’s neck, pounding away like he had been running.

Yuri cautiously nodded, hugging him around his middle. They exchanged kisses, sweet and delicate, with a hint of tongue between them. Yuri’s heart slowly came down to a steady pace. They remained, spun in each other’s arms. A stubbornness to move, and a general terror if they did they did that they would be separated again.

When he was calm, the kisses grew deeper, softer. Yuri pulled him in, wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Shit, Beka…”

“What?” A cool shock went through him. Yuri was eyeing the stitching, trembling lips as he ran a hand down to where it sat. It was strange, the stitches felt so unnatural compared to the vine that had lived and breathed with him for all those months. This felt artificial, strange and thin. It pulled on his skin unpleasantly, and it was cool and lifeless. The vine had lived with him, which the stitches were just made of something unreal. He couldn’t imagine how Yuri was feeling at the moment.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “They had to remove it,”

“I thought it would poison you if we were cut off.” He said, and his teeth clenched. “I’m sorry, that thing could have killed you. I’m glad you’re safe.” It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, as he quickly turned back to kissing.

They became closer, and Otabek rolled himself on top, drinking in the sight below him. Magnificent, beautiful, cunning, witty. All rolled up into one amazing fairy. He smiled, kissing grins up his neck.

“What are you thinking now?” Asked Yuri, watching the smile break out onto his features.

“I was thinking about how beautiful you look.” That made Yuri’s eyes roll, but he grinned all the same, kissing the tip of his nose

“Beautiful?”

“Magnificent.” He confirmed, showering him in affection and kisses. Otabek leaned in, accidentally pressing his knee up against Yuri’s crotch. They paused, stock still in the candle lit room. He flushed the blush coursing up his face faster than anything.

It was clear he was hard. That wasn’t a problem, but Yuri immediately became bashful, covering up his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“Oh,” he said, and curled in on himself a bit, turning away. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean it. You are impossible to get used to.”

“It’s okay,” Otabek kissed him, tugging him into a kiss. Yuri’s skin was pink, spread right over his cheeks and ears. All the way down to his collarbone. “Is it okay?” he ran his finger down to the hem, raising an eyebrow. “I take responsibility.”

“It’s all your doing,” he mumbled. “Damn, Beka, why are you like this? Not even a few minutes in here, and you’re already pulling down my pants. You are entirely to blame for this.” Otabek laughed, and nudged the hardness between his legs.

“I’ll have to take care on this then, won’t I?” He nudged it again, with his nose, and Yuri shivered, covering his eyes.

“You better, if you’re going to say things like that!”

“Don’t worry, Yuri,” he said, and pulled Yuri’s pants down completely. Easing Yuri’s feet through, and then tossing the material away. “Just lay back, I’ll take it from here.”

Yuri huffed, biting back his grin. “Damn charmer,” he muttered, shifting. “Alright, alright, I’ll relax.” He ran a thumb over the tip of Yuri’s cock through another layer of material, and Yuri nearly whined. Otabek dipped a hand into his undergarments, stroking. He couldn’t help getting hard himself, but resisted the temptation. It was about Yuri first now, and he was going to spoil the hell out of him.

When he had pulled those off undergarments too, he sank down onto Yuri with his mouth, going until it hit the back of his throat.

Yuri shrieked, digging his fingernails into Otabek’s arms. “Shit, shit, ah-“

He pulled off, frowning. “Careful, you’re scratching me up.” He apologized, tenderly rubbing the marks over his forearms.

Yuri looked down at him, incredulous. “How?” he cried, bucking into his strong arms. “How the hell are you taking it all the way?” A rough moan left his throat as Otabek took his dick into his hand and began to stroke slowly along the head. “Ahh- I could barely fit you in my mouth.”

“Relax your throat,” he laughed, which prompted another grumble. Liquid began to gather over the top of his cock, and Otabek took Yuri back into his mouth. The slight bitter-salt sweet taste wasn’t bothersome, it was just cum. Nothing unusual. He licked gently along the slit, and Yuri writhed. He didn’t hold back from bucking into his mouth, and there was only so much he could do to hold down his hips.

“Beka,” He pressed into the soft white muscle of his thigh, swallowing the soft rolls of his hips into his mouth. Otabek watched Yuri move, a comforting hand through his black hair, enticingly pulling on his strands. He couldn’t help thrusting his free hand down, releasing the built up pressure on his stomach.

It was a sight for sore eyes, Yuri’s hair splayed across the sheets. Radiant light trickled up from his back, to the tips of his wings. He panted, a bead a sweat rolling down to his bellybutton. Lip between teeth, he grunted, trying to hold in his groans. Each sound gave Otabek goosebumps. He bobbed, licking up his cock, and the places he couldn’t reach he used his other hand, which only gave Yuri more room to thrust into his mouth.

He popped off, wiping the spit that had dripped over his chin.

“Please,” he begged, wiggling his hips to get some sort of friction. “Don’t stop-“

Otabek grinned, kissing into his mouth. He wasn’t going to get off that easily, and they still had a while. They hadn’t touched in days; he was craving the press of skin to skin. The faint taste of Yuri in his mouth made Yuri recoil, but he settled into the rhythm. Yuri’s cock shifted on his stomach, and he rutted into the muscles. They met in the middle, and Yuri wrapped his hand around the both of them, stroking them up together.

“I missed you,” he whispered, whimpered, and Yuri kissed the words away. Yuri gripped harder, fingers unable to wrap the whole width of them together, but it all made up for it. The wings over his back, now that they were rolled to their sides, were visible. Beka wriggled a hand over, stroking quickly over a vein. His eyes nearly rolled, and he shut them, shuddering.

“I missed you more,” he said hoarsely, and Otabek chuckled, giving his salty cheek a kiss.

“Impossible,” he said, and Yuri gave him a sleepy grin, rolling his hips into the hands between them. He was trapped between the two sensations, the careful constant touch of wings and the sweet stroke of hands over his cock. He thrust forward, only to momentarily lose the gentle caress. Despite his teeth, a low whimper left his throat.

“Beka- I’m going to-“ Yuri’s hands began to pump faster, moving quickly as he started to tumble. Their foreheads, slightly damp, pressed together. The scent was heady, a sweet shot of honey and pear straight to his groin. The candlelight made his eyes glow, bright green with a tinge of amber from the melting wax. They met his own, bitter cinnamon.

“Go on,” he urged, pressing closer until they almost seemed to occupy the same space. Watched in wonder and arousal while Yuri spilled over his hands, shoulders shaking. It only took a few more thrusts for him to do the same, white on white over Yuri’s chest. He heaved, inhaling the air around them, clean and fresh with peppermint. Yuri shuddered, wide eyed.

“Wow,” he mumbled, bright with released arousal. “I-“

“Oh,” Otabek bit the side of his cheek, trying not to smile. Yuri’s chest was wet, the result of their pleasure sprayed hot against his pale skin. Yuri looked down, panting.

“Heh,” he pressed a finger into the cum on his chest. His hair was tangled up a golden twist, blood close to the skin where he had kissed. “You made a real mess of me.” He dragged his finger upwards, collecting a trail on the tip. “Damn,”

He kissed him, capturing his lips. Shit, he wasn’t even angry that Otabek had splattered cum on his chest. Yuri didn’t even seem to mind, grinning, no, beaming into the kiss. “Do you have a cloth somewhere?” Yuri shook his head, flushed and red.

“No, I didn’t bathe here.” They settled, Otabek careful not to press into Yuri’s chest. “There’s a bath in the third wing, but the door’s locked. Oh gods, this is gross.” He giggled, muffled by the hand over his forehead. The aroma of peppermint off his wings permeated the whole room, a touch away from sweet. “Just use my shirt.”

“It’ll stain.” He frowned, a finger over his lips as he considered. Sure, it was gross, but they didn’t exactly have any other choice, did they?

Yuri yelped as the cool wet tongue came up his chest. “Beka,” he said hastely. “Bek- fuck!” Otabek raised a lazy eyebrow, lapping up the last remnants of their mess. His eyes went wide, black arousal consuming his pupil, leaving only a slim outline of green. The taste was nothing to envy, but that look in Yuri’s eyes made it all worth it. Yes, he thought. He was almost glad that there was no cloth. Yuri’s exhausted cock jumped against his hip, clearly invested in the show before him.

He would have spat, the taste was unpleasant on his tongue, but with nowhere to go he swallowed it down in a gulp. Shuddering, he took at all down. Yuri tightened his grip. “Wow,” he breathed, stomach coiling with his laughter. “Wow,”

“Hmmm?” He wet his lips with his tongue, and Yuri mimicked him, tongue poking out for a second while he watched, completely entranced. “You like what you see?”

“Yes,” and his eyes darkened. “Very. Heh, you are absolutely crazy, Beka.” Yuri winced at the taste, pulling away. “Seriously, that tastes weird.”

“Sorry, there was nothing else to clean up with.” Yuri snickered, pressing tired gentle kisses to his neck. Rubbing hands over his sides, pausing a moment when they came to the stitches. Hesitantly, he slid his hand over.

“It doesn’t hurt?” Yuri frowned, circling the stitches.

“It hurts, but it is manageable.” He was certain he would be feeling the pain later, when whatever Phichit and Sara had given him had faded away. “Are you bothered that it’s gone?” Yuri bit his lip. “It’s okay if you don’t like it.”

“No, no.” muttering, he pulled away. “No, that thing was hurting you. It ate away at your insides, and it needed to rely on me to keep it alive. I guess, it is a good thing.”

Otabek sat up, the nasty taste from his mouth being replaced by another. “Yuri, does it bother you?” Why did he feel the need to lie?

“I’m not going to say that,” grumbled Yuri. “I want you to be safe, and I’m not going to be selfish when it comes to that.” He sighed, and hugged him, nuzzling into his neck. “You come over some stupid vine any day.”

And at some point or another, they fell asleep beside each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you all next chapter!


	23. Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach; may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance. Don't leave me for a second, my dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had the fairy that killed Otabek’s father enjoy it this much?
> 
> He gathered Otabek up, choking back tears. Immediately he began to cry, regret filled his chest. Why, why had he done that? There were other ways to kill, there were easier, less painful ways to do it. Otabek was barely responding, lost in his memories, and he had caused it.
> 
> Otabek had gone through so much, and Yuri had known. He had known, so why? Why, just why? It had been so unnecessary!
> 
> Gods, how fucked in the head was he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely people!
> 
> I hope you all have a lovely Monday, my work skedule has been so busy recently, but I hope this chapter makes up for some of that!  
> Enjoy!

Phichit didn’t come back. Not until much later. They must have only slept for a few minutes, warmth and happiness filling them as they lay together. Otabek couldn’t have told how much time had passed; there were no windows, and he was more than pleased to be wrapped up in Yuri’s arms to care.

He eased himself from the snoring fairy, and slid on his shirt. Sleepy Yuri didn’t at all appreciate him pulling away, and he immediately tightened his arms. He reached out, groping at the blankets. With no result, he let out a bitter snort, rolling back over.

Otabek ran a hand through his hair, then over his lips. He was smiling, obviously he was smiling. But after these last few days, it felt weird on his face. Not unusual, nor unpleasant. Just strange.

A nice sort of strange. A strange he could become used to.

“Hmm?” his sleepy eyes flickered open, edges creasing into a smile. “Beka?”

“Yeah,” He planted kisses along Yuri’s cheek, watching his smile grow wider. Yuri mumbled something quietly, then leaned up, wrapping his arms around Otabek’s shoulders.

“Hmm, I’m so happy you’re here.” He mumbled. “Fuck, I… I was terrified. I kept asking that half fairy about you. Heh,” he chuckled, and his eyes carefully flickered open. There it was, that beautiful bright glass green. Otabek grinned, warmth filling his chest. He would happily drown in those eyes. Yuri reached with his hand, and ran a thumb over his cheekbone. “I guess it paid off then.”

“I guess so,” he murmured, and Yuri cupped his face, bringing him closer for another kiss. His skin was pleasantly warm from sleep, his body like the soft glow of a fire. Otabek sank into the kisses, like sinking into a warm bath. His skin tingled, and Yuri calmed him, quiet and gentle.

“Beka, I love you,” he said, and laughed. “I really love you. Beka, gods, you’re perfect.”

The room swam around him, his heart twisting in his chest. He beamed, squeezing Yuri around his middle.

How had this happened? Only nine months ago, he had been alone, starved of touch and love. Losing his friends, losing his humanity. And now, just now, it had turned into something much greater. All that time together, first as friends, then lovers. Self-sacrifice in the face of fear and isolation. It had been bubbling and building, under the surface. He had watched it grow, adamant that it could be lost at any moment.

They were both desperate and alone. Of course they had connected, but it had blossomed. They helped each other, built each other up from the ground, healing old and new wounds. Their lineages, the war, it could so easily have held all of it back. If you had told him that he’d fall for a fairy, more than fall, tumble and stumble into a fairy’s life and learn to love him for all his flaws and little perfections, he’d have laughed.

“I love you too Yuri.” He said, and Yuri squeezed him back until he wheezed. “More than anything, I love you,” he mumbled the words into his collarbone, dusting them into the hollow of his neck, then across his chest. Every inch of his skin would receive the same sort of treatment. Maybe the vibrations of his voice would have an effect. Sinking into the pale skin, staining him with the words ‘I love you, I love you’.

“This place isn’t too bad,” he commented. “It looks a lot like my old room in the castle.”

“It’s shit,” said Yuri, his face filling with mirth.

“How?” he said, gesturing to the room. “It’s a lot nicer than a prison cell.”

“It might as well be one.” he muttered, picking at the cobblestone walls. “Shit, Otabek, did they put you in a cell?” his eyes went wide and bright. Otabek nodded. Yuri grit his teeth, fingers stressing in his hair. “Shit, are you okay?”

“I’m fine now.”

“You’re not going back,” insisted Yuri. He grimaced. “They can’t make me do anything. I’m valuable, they can’t take you away.”

He rose an eyebrow. “Yuri-“

“No, I’m serious!” Yuri glowered. “A… a lot of things happened while you were gone.” He gestured around the room. “I mean, I can’t leave the castle, but normally the door is unlocked. I can go to the kitchen, and there’s a huge bathroom on the third floor. I can’t really fly or shrink,” the marks on his wrists were still there, the sky blue faded into his skin. He touched them, and they were ice cold to the touch. “So I can’t really get out, but they’ve been…” he glared, breathing out. “Nice? I guess…”

“Nice?” Asked Otabek, an eyebrow raised in apprehension.

“I- I don’t know!” He rubbed his eyes, angry look turning into one of confusion. “They- they just took me here. As soon as they left the room, I ran out to find a window.” His brows furrowed. “And I was about to escape, but they caught me again.”

“I heard about that,” muttered Otabek. “You could’ve fallen.”

Yuri grimaced. “I know. I know, but I was panicking. I didn’t know where to find you. But after that, things got better. I… sat down with a few people. A couple times.”

“Who?”

“That dumbass King.” He said blandly, rolling his eyes.

“The King?” His throat was dry, blood draining from his head to his toes.

“Yeah, the King,” he said, grimacing again. “I met him. And his wife.”

Otabek gaped. His chest swooped, dropping quickly into his stomach. He nearly gaged on his own tongue, struggling to find the words. “What- how- you-“

“Oh, he’s a total dick.” Said Yuri, grinning. “Arrogant asshole. Jean, I think his name was? I met him for dinner. Wait,” he said, clearing his throat, and arranging himself upright. He smirked, the side of his mouth cocking upwards. “I’ll tell you it from the beginning…”

 

*

 

It was bright, unbelievably bright. In an instant, something heavy and stale was draped over his shoulders, fingers coming to adjust his wings for a moment. He jerked, the colors, vivid intense shapes before him. Brilliant shades of blue, green, orange. After days of dim light, it felt as though he saw again.

The hands around his wrists where strong, thick fingers squeezing unpleasantly. The ground was dusty, grainy, grating against his soles. 

Shit, the brightness made him feel sick, he could already feel the vomit creeping up his throat. Damn ugly brightness, it burned, it burned. Steadily, his eyes began to adjust.

“Bastard!” He hissed, but nobody paid attention. They were blank, slated faces, tugging him along with the blanket strewn over his shoulders. The world was dusty, unclean air filtering through his lungs. He had never smelled such a stench. Yuri had thought the soldier’s camp had been bad, but the smell of thousands made the air feel thick and hot.

Around his wrists, they tied it tight. The knot pressed against the marks, it made them sting. They ached, and that made his blood pound. The sun was right overhead, reducing the shadows. It hurt, and he squeezed his eyes shut again, only to have them flair open in panic. Wrenching, he turned, trying to see the carriage, if they’d be taking Otabek out as well. His wings were pinched in the blanket, his heart was pounding away at his lungs.

Yuri blinked, sucking in a breath. Tears, they didn’t fall. They rumbled, rushing and tumbling down. He shook, but there was no point, he wasn’t strong. There were too many.

They dragged him along, he fought every movement. It was disorientating, he couldn’t focus on one single thing as they moved, only getting a faint idea of the world around him before they were moving along again. He struggled until his arms hurt, until his wrists burned. He spat, cursing.

A fist slammed into his stomach, sending sparks across his vision. Yuri coughed, spluttered, couldn’t suck in air. Yelling came from both sides, and now the one that had hit him was gone, disappearing down the hallway. Yuri cried out from the pain, slowing regaining his breath. Arms heaved him back up, and they began to walk again, really, more like dragging him along.

God damn, if those marks were taken off, he could turn them all to dust. Crumble them all, it shouldn’t have sent that thrill through him, but it did.

Did he have a romanticized idea of killing? Maybe, but that didn’t excuse it at all. When he had killed that man, he hadn’t regretted. It had _enjoyed_ it. It felt good to be feared by him. By someone who was trying to kill him. He felt the glee crawl up his neck, the man’s scream of horror.

He had killed. And it had felt good, at the time.

Otabek hadn’t seen it though, the fear leaping from his eyes, clear crisp panic. It made him grip harder, sapping more and more of the man’s energy. The magic tingled, setting alight his veins, his nerves dancing.

Now, he understood.

Why they’d done it. The energy, it was stronger than anything he’d ever felt. As if he could have toppled mountains. There was something joyful about it, the live force of a living thing, coursing through him in a wave of heady pleasure. It fought, then stopped. Spinning within him, beautiful.

It was the taste of death, wasn’t it. Yuri had never killed an intelligent being with his power. In that split second of tranquility, he could have killed anything. Sure, they had all done it for their own survival. But nothing had ever felt that good. Nothing.

In that moment, he could have continued. Gone from man to woman, crumbling them all. He sank his hand in, the blood gushed over his hands, warm and oily. The dust gathered at his feet. The site was picturesque in it’s gruesomeness. Pale mud scattered over the grassy floor, deep red flecks and pools of blood. Pale and ghastly lips, a terrible tremble, then stillness. Had the terror detached him?

Then he had turned, and saw.

Otabek was the only thing that had pulled him out of it. He had curled himself up, nearly crying. Then he was crying, shaking like mad. His skin, his hands, they were covered in a cool sheen of sweat. It cut through the energy, the delight that coursed through him.

Yuri knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself he if he hadn’t turned away. It was too awful, the fear in his eyes. Yuri would have consumed the cigarette man, turning his body completely. Only the question made him pull back.

Had the fairy that killed Otabek’s father enjoy it this much?

He gathered Otabek up, choking back tears. Immediately he began to cry, regret filled his chest. Why, why had he done that? There were other ways to kill, there were easier, less painful ways to do it. Otabek was barely responding, lost in his memories, and he had caused it.

Otabek had gone through so much, and Yuri had known. He had known, so why? Why, just why? It had been so unnecessary!

Gods, how fucked in the head was he?

They reached a shaded area, his vision filling with cobblestones. Quickly, through a wooden door, jerked between corridors and hallways. Before he could get a hold of anything in front of him, they opened another door, one at the very end of a long hallway.

Now, they were gentler, and he was too tired to fight against it.

The blanket was removed, air rushing in to cool the skin of his wings. When they placed a cup in front of him, he drank without question. His tongue was dry, it stuck to the roof of his mouth. A hand rested at his chin, but he jerked, and the water was tipped down his throat.

“He’s dehydrated,” said a voice, angry. “You couldn’t even give him enough water?”

“Not my fault,” Another cup was given to him. He hadn’t realized his thirst, and drank it all down. Now his hands were free, and he reached back, pouring it down his throat fervently. A tanned hand waved in front of his face, still slightly fuzzy. It reached over his shoulder, adjusting his shirt to stop it from pinching his wings.

“Hey,” said the voice again, and this time it was gentle. “How are you feeling? Do you want more water?”

“Get the hell out of my face,” he muttered, blinking. The figure turned, steadily sharpening in the light. Another cup was placed in his hands, and he gulped it down again. He thought for a moment of pouring it on the floor, or dunking it over the man’s head, but his throat burned.

“We’ll get you some food too.” Said the man, smiling gently. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now, everything is alright.”

Yuri nearly choked on his water. Who was this guy, to try and comfort him? The words made him feel weird. It didn’t feel right, coming from anyone other than Otabek. The words were laced with pity, and it made him want to spit up his mouthful of water and run.

Shit, the door, it wobbled in front of him. The guards were there, still there. Yuri cursed, and the man raised an eyebrow.

He was good looking, with a gentle smile. His hair settled in warm soft peaks. His eyes were brown, but nearly purple, had permanent creases. Probably from smiling too much. This man was already infuriating. It made his stomach feel like it was boiling inside of him.

“I’m Phichit,” he said, beaming. “And you’re?”

He clamped his mouth shut. They weren’t going to get anything out of him. “Yuri,” supplied a guard. The human in front of him looked him in the eye, self-satisfied, on the verge of smug.

“Yuri,” said Phichit quietly. “I know you’re probably very confused-“ he then placed a hand on his thigh. “-but you have nothing to worry about-“

“Get the _fuck_ off me,” he threatened, shoulders tensing. “Don’t you even fucking dare!” There were too many of them, all of them staring at him like some sort of wild creature. Those eyes, constantly glazing over his wings. They scraped him clean. He felt exposed, all his skin prickling.

“Okay, okay,” said the human, easing back. He looked around the room, frowning. Considering? “I think you should leave.” He said, carefully. The others behind him stopped, then one laughed.

“Seriously?” she said. “We’re not leaving him-“

“Yes, you are.” Said the man, crossing his arms. “You’re making him nervous.”

“Fuck you-“ hissed Yuri. Those guards didn’t make him nervous, they made him angry. The man gripped his arm, _touching_ his arm. Yuri grit his teeth, willing himself not to shove the other man off. He was trying to get the guards out. That was a good thing.

“You need to calm down,” whispered the man, his smile taking on an edge. “I’m trying to help you.”

Yuri held his tongue, still glaring like it would burn him. The man grinned, looking back up at the guards.

“I can take him from here!” He said, patting him infuriatingly on the shoulder. The man was beaming at the guards, who seemed just as confused as him. “I think everyone will feel a lot better if we all have some more room.”

There was a very pregnant pause, both sides silent for a moment. The hand on him seemed to be pressuring him, pushing him slightly, as though to say _‘don’t speak, not right now_.’ He kept his mouth tightly clenched.

At the same time, the man before him was challenging them. Was he supposed to be ordering them around? It didn’t feel like it, with the half-offended look on her face.

Then the female guard nodded. They filtered out, one by one, a dazed look over their faces. The man visibly relaxed, his shoulders slackening. Once the door was shut, he sighed, breathing in and out, then smiling.

“Great!” He said, slapping his hands together. “Now-“

“What the hell is going on…?” He asked, nearly growling. There was no time to waste! He needed to get back to Otabek, to find some way to bring them together. This city, these walls were unfamiliar. He wouldn’t be able to find his way around, he couldn’t fly, he could even hide his wings that well anymore. The brief blanket thrown over his shoulders had made them ache terribly; they throbbed at the root. They had grown stronger over time, and were still thick from winter. It would be very painful trying to navigate the crowed city with a thick jacket to cover them.

“I- I don’t know what’s going to happen,” said Phichit, furrowing his brow. “But you will be alright. No one here is going to harm you!”

“-Hell you know that?” He spat, green eyes tightening around Phichit’s naïve expression. “You _fucks_ took me from my home for no good gods be damned reason!” Yuri seethed, choking on the words, hoping they would somehow choke Phichit instead.

Phichit frowned. “I really don’t know what happened to you two, but please, believe me, you and the human are going to be fine.”

What a fucking joke.

Yuri had had enough, and with his strength now slowly returned, he grabbed the man, starting to shove him. “Get the fuck out!”

“-No wait- let me-“

Yuri heaved open the door, tossing the man out before slamming it behind him. The man barely struggled, clutching onto his arm, then nearly tumbling to the floor. He blinked, heart pumping at a million.

That hadn’t been productive. But it was damn worth it.

The sliding hatch over the bars opened. Two purple eyes blinked at him, creased at the corners.

“Fuck you,” he groaned, pressing up against the door. The man shook his head, holding up his hands.

“Really, if you just listened you’d realize that I know exactly how you feel-“

“Bastard-“ He needed to block the door, find something. Quickly, anything to prop up against it. There was no time to think, to plan, so he ran with what worked best in his head.

“I’ve literally gone through this exact same thing which you would know if you actually list-“

“Get out!”

“I am out!” shouted Phichit, waving his hands. “And I won’t come in unless you let me.”

Yuri felt his stomach drop, then lift. What was this guy playing at? The human pouted, looking down at him from the bars. “Fine,” he muttered. “Don’t even touch the door.”

“Okay! Okay,” said the man, nodding. “But can you let me explain?”

“Explain?” he hissed, and slammed his foot into the door, hard. The pain coursed through him, bringing tears to his eyes. But only for a moment. “What about this do you want to explain, huh?”

“Let me- ugh just…” He placed a finger on his lips. Then his eyes lit up, and the man grinned again. “I know, let me just,” he began wriggling out of his shirt in a frenzy, pulled his arms out before lifting it up over his head. Stripping right in the middle of the hallway, much to the horror of the guards, who could only watch on with uncomfortable looks. Completely revealing his chest, the man grinned almost manically.

Yuri blanched, recoiling as though he had been bitten. “What the hell are you-?!”

“Just look!” Said the man, turning.

And there they were. Two, dazed fluttering dark purple wings. They were tiny, sitting low on his back. Weak little things, twitching with every breath.

“See,” said Phichit, huffing. His cheeks were glowing, and the guards were staring again. Uncomfortable, but fascinated by the small purple bug wings waving at him on his back. “Are you going to let me in or not?”

Yuri paled, then steadily opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, so we are finally in Yura's POV! I'm so excited, I am really on the home stretch now (although there is a heck ton more to go). From here on out, everything should be smooth! I really love these next few, they've been really fun to write out and plan!
> 
> See you all soon!


	24. All I want is freedom, to say “I love you”. All I want is freedom, to hear you say “I love you too”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beka loved him. He wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t. Otabek could’ve left, at any time. A part of him had feared when he had waited for Otabek outside of town. He hadn’t come back, even as the sky grew darker. Blind paranoia had taken over him. Yuri shrunk, and flew around town until he had searched everywhere. Only the fear, not his own, but Otabek’s, had pushed him forward.
> 
> What would he have done, if Otabek had left?
> 
> “Fucking- Otabek.” He gurgled.
> 
> What would he do about it now? Yuri needed to make this right. He needed to do everything. It wouldn’t be enough. Nothing could be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone here listen to cigarettes after sex? I can't stop listening to their song 'Sweet', seriously it's really good. It's very Otayuri.
> 
> Oh, and here's a chapter <3

“What-“ he swallowed, gesturing towards Phichit’s wings. They twitched, almost violently, disturbed by his words. Was that painful? It looked painful. They were spindly and worn. The edges were dusty, lacking a metallic shine. Could they fall off? It felt like they could. “What happened? Why do they look like that?” He swallowed again, the lump building in his throat.

Is that what they had done to him? Hurt him in the most delicate place they could. Large clippers, cutting them down to ugly tiny things. Acid burned his throat at the thought. Would they do that to him if he didn’t listen?

Peeking at the wings again, he felt a mild fascination. They were horrid, obviously, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. How had they managed to do that? The corners were uneven, but they were smoothed out. His veins, vivid purple against the gentle quiver.

He shivered, fiddling with the bottom tip of his wing, running the flat of his finger over it. He would never let that happen. Never, it was impossible to imagine. He would bleed out, he would die. They couldn’t do it, they couldn’t cut his wings. Yuri would rather bleed out.

But Phichit shook his head, sitting down beside him.

“I’m half human,” he said, his eyes creasing gently. “I was born like this.”

“They were- always that small?” He whispered, eying them carefully. “Shit, sorry.” Yuri shouldn’t have said that. He was probably aware, he didn’t need to point it out. Being born with them like that, it did nothing to diminish the awfulness that crawled up his stomach.

But Phichit didn’t seem to mind, placing a hand on his leg. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended. I am aware of what they’re supposed to look like.”

The man- fairy, was very touchy-feely, but Yuri felt so bad he didn’t even try to push him away. “They don’t _hurt_ , do they?”

He shook his head, showing Yuri his lower back. “Not anymore. They used to hurt a lot, when I was younger. I didn’t like them, it was difficult to sleep on my back. So my parents,” he said, reaching over his shoulder. A large white line crossed his spine, just above the wing root. “They stopped the pain. I can’t feel them.”

“Shit.” His voice was coarse. For a moment, he felt like he needed to comfort the man, but didn’t have the words. He didn’t know how to act. Should he feel sympathy? Maybe the man would view it as pity…

“I can’t move them too much either. But they are very useful!” he said, winking. “It’s very easy to get magic. But compared to yours,” he said, twisting so he could get a better look. Phichit’s eyes lit up, reaching out like he wanted to touch, but he didn’t, admiring from afar. “These are magnificent!” He cried. Yuri eased himself away, relaxing his shoulders.

He seemed harmless. Maybe.

“Now,” he said, sitting closer. “You’ll need to meet with the king soon,” said Phichit, running a soothing hand through his hair. Yuri jerked back, grimacing at the pain.

“What?” he swallowed. The King?

Shit, that man. The one who was the reason for all his suffering. The reason for his parents, for his people-

“It’s only- hey, it’s fine! It’s alright!” Phichit insisted, making a pained, sympathetic expression. “Oh dear, your face is going red- I swear- I know how you’re feeling!”

“I-I don’t know.” He said, running a hand through his hair. How was Yuri supposed to respond? Phichit couldn’t possibly know how he felt! “I need- I need space!” The beat of his heart, thick and dizzying in his ear. It was swelling, his chest filling with cool cold air, but that did nothing to the blood. He was going to tip, heavy headed, hot warm blood in his ears. Phichit stood, pushing him down to sit.

“It’s alright, you don’t need to go!” He cried, eyes wide and shiny. “Not now, at least.”

Yuri grit his teeth. Now, he didn’t need to feel sympathy. He couldn’t feel sympathy for the man now. In a fit of anger, he tossed the door open. “Out,” he growled. “I don’t want to see your face again! Get out!” He screamed. Suddenly, he couldn’t stand the man. With his stupid happy smile, his tiny ugly wings. Forcing him to see the _king_. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something was protesting it, but he ignored that voice.

He never wanted to see that man. He knew the face would be etched into his brain for the rest of his life. He didn’t need that on his mind.

“Wait, you need-“

“I need Otabek!” He cried, resisting the urge to drive his fist through the man’s face. His fingers are thin, he’s almost terrified they’d break. “You don’t know what the hell I need! I’m not going to speak to that goddamn murderer!”

“It’s not-“ Phichit took a breath. “It’s not that simple. I’ll come back later,” He looked down, frowning. “I thought you might be able to understand.”

Yuri was burning up from the inside. He couldn’t hurt the man, not physically, but he probably knew where Otabek was. He felt like crying, like slamming his fists into the door, like lying immobile on the floor. This was ridiculous, meeting the king! What the hell was Phichit thinking, it was crazy!

No, he couldn’t do any of those things. He couldn’t lay on the floor, or punch the door until he didn’t feel like screaming anymore. It wouldn’t help him, as good as it would feel. Wasting his time was hardly in his best interest.

But _fuck_ , it would feel great to shove this smiling asshole to the floor. His happiness was annoying, unaffiliating and stale. He couldn’t handle it.

Phichit walked back out. “Someone will bring you some fresh clothes soon.” He said, shortly, before turning. Yuri smacked the door shut, hitting it hard enough for his palm to burn. The door clicked shut, it vibrated through the wood. He felt it in his fingers, and slapped the door again. And again. Plumes of pink rose to his skin.

That didn’t solve anything.

Savage, he kicked at the door, ripping at the handle like an animal. He wasn’t to be caged like a wild creature, he was as much a person as anyone else was. Being treated like this, with walls and doors. How could only live like this? The walls gave no warmth, the lock was icy cool against his bruised fingers.

How long did he tear at the door for? He couldn’t remember, it was definitely more than an hour. He screamed at the guards, but they offered nothing,

He shouldn’t have drove Phichit away. He apologized, then raged back, angry at his own self-pity. When that didn’t work, he threatened, cursing them until his mouth ran dry. Yuri wore himself down to the bone, until all effort slipped from his body. Crying, he got under the covers.

This was humiliating.

He was crying for his lover like a child. There was no idea of time, no windows. But he did stop crying eventually. “Fuck you all,” he hissed, missing his mirth. Fingers caressed absentmindedly against the blue marks.

Humans are horrible.

But they’re beautiful. Otabek was beautiful, he was magnetic. They fit together, and now it felt like a part of him was gone. He had sworn that they would never lose each other again. That king would lament the day he ever let Yuri into the castle.

Maybe Yuri would kill him. He had already killed someone. It hadn’t been too hard, if he didn’t think about it too much. Knifes worked just as well as magic.

No.

This was stupid.

This was ugly, and stupid.

Yuri leaned out of the bed, blowing out the candle. He had his own light. As the green light built around him, he allowed his eyes to shut. Let himself be graceless for once.

 

*

 

“Hey,” mumbled a voice. Yuri blinked open his bleary eyes, leaning down to light his candle. It took a few tries, it was hard to find it in the thick black room, and the candle was nearly knocked over in the attempt.

“What?” Yuri shouted, holding up his candle stick in his fist. He couldn’t place the voice at all. When he squinted, he could see light under the door, and two pillar shadows for feet.

The small hatch on the door slid open, and a pair of bright eyes came through the bars.

Crap.

“Good morning!” said Phichit, waving.

“Go away,” he groaned, nudging the door with his foot. His toes were still bruised, he didn’t have the energy to throw another fit.

“I won’t come in,” he said, skirting an apologetic smile. “But I have clothes, here. For you.” He said, leaning down. “The baths are in the third wing. Do you want me to take you there?”

“Just go away,” Yuri hissed. He shifted, wax running down his knuckles. Squeezing his fingers, he placed the candle back on the table, wiggling it down onto the nail.

“Okay.” Mumbled Phichit, nodding. “It’s fine. You need your space.” The hatch slid shut.

Yuri looked back up. His sweat ran cold. Shit, had he just fucked up? They had given him an opportunity to leave this wretched room, and he had shoved it away _again._ Yuri’s eyes went wide, and he dug his fingers into his hair, fisting it between his fingers.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Why had he _done_ that?!

In a blur, he tore at the door again, screaming. He couldn’t sit here, complacent while Otabek was out there! He was somewhere, he had to be. And he had ruined his chance! _Again!_

His hand caught on the handle, and he tugged, willing the metal to hurt. The door flew open, fresh air and light hitting him like a slap.

The door was open!

He sucked in a breath. The whole hallway was open. Ceiling the height of two men, small windows along the top. Cobblestones filling his vision. Yuri looked down, feeling the material that was below him. Clothes, a clean shade of dull green.

Wiping at his eyes, he picked up his clothes. Gods, they were clean, they smelled fresh. They were soft to the touch, smooth. Had he ever worn something this pure? He brought the material to his nose, breathing deep.

Soap.

…

Where had he said the baths were? Third wing?

God damn, he was so gross. The sweat from the last couple of weeks clung to his skin, it had begun to film. He ran a hand through his hair, it was oily as hell, stained mildew yellow with dust and dirt.

He might as well have a bath, his head was throbbing like mad. Even if they weren’t watching him now, they would for sure be watching at the entrances. Yuri didn’t have the energy to make an escape, much less fight off guards.

He was useless to Otabek in this state.

Yuri looked over his shoulder at his room, then back down the hallway. He wondered, careful with each step. There were no guards here, no people here at all. Where had Phichit gone? These halls were nothing but a maze of the same colors and places.

Third wing?

What did that look like? There were no labels. So, he just kept walking, taking each step. Until he came across another door. Hesitantly, he opened it.

Baths, admittedly, was a rather generous way to put it. A very large stand free tub stood against the wall, dulled iron and black handles. It was large enough to fit about three Otabek-sized people. Yuri frowned, stepping forward. He supposed, rubbing the darkening metal, that the other fairy had never used this room.

A large cabinet stood to side, and when he opened it, it was full of many vials and glass bottles. He opened a few, sniffing until he found one that was suitable. Something nutty, with the sweet scent of lavender singing in the background. Textures of almond, and cloves. Yuri leaned, wrenching open the handle. Water began to fill the bath, and steam began to saturate the air.

Yuri checked the door, tugging on the lock several times, then kicking against the door. It was shut tight. Good. That was a good thing. He opened the door from his side, and it swung open. Then locked it, checking again.

 _Good_ , he thought, sinking down beside the bath. _They can’t get me in here. I need time to plan_. He tipped the contents of the bottle into the bath, the smell of almond permeating the room. The scent would soak into his wings, wouldn’t it?

He set the glass bottle carefully on the counter.

The bath water was so warm. He sunk, letting the heat climb up his calves, then his back, then his neck. It felt like an embrace. His shoulder stung, but he ignored it. The scent, it was uncanny.

Otabek skin was like that too. Between the whorls of skin, through hands fisted into soft brown hair, he was almond and fresh grass, and _stupid fucking_ lavender. His childhood had been laced into his skin, the smells of his village and family brought with him. No matter how much blood had been spilt, he still stunk of home.

Lavender.

Yuri sank into the almond bubbles, running hands through his hair. He blinked his eyes open in the water. His hair fanned out in the bathwater, and it hung, suspended.

He only came up for air when he felt his chest roaring. His heart and lungs fought for air, and he broke the surface, slurping in his own guilty breath.

“Beka,” he mumbled, tracing his arms. Otabek had left marks there, slim purple moons. Just as they had left the carriage – they should have fought, they should have fought- he had dug his fingers in deep. Seeing those marks, it was a gentle satisfaction. Knowing that Beka had done that, it fulfilled something in him.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind having those marks elsewhere as well. Bruised marks on his neck, on his hips. Over his lips, on his legs like blue kisses.

“I’m-“ he started, then stopped. Was he stupid? Was he just naïve? Or was it something more than that, something worse?

Beka loved him. He wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t. Otabek could’ve left, at any time. A part of him had feared when he had waited for Otabek outside of town. He hadn’t come back, even as the sky grew darker. Blind paranoia had taken over him. Yuri shrunk, and flew around town until he had searched everywhere. Only the fear, not his own, but Otabek’s, had pushed him forward.

What would he have done, if Otabek had left?

“Fucking- Otabek.” He gurgled.

What would he do about it now? Yuri needed to make this right. He needed to do everything. It wouldn’t be enough. Nothing could be enough.

He wrapped the glass bottle in his own clothing, cradling it like a child to his chest. All the way back, he watched over his shoulder. Would they grab the bottle if they saw it? It was small, but not small enough to hide in what he was wearing. Weary, he shivered down the hallways. When he reached his room, he laid it out carefully on the floor. It was small, very small, a little bigger than his fist. Wrapping it once more in his own clothes, he grabbed the end on his shirt, holding it tightly.

Yuri grit his teeth, and swung.

The sound of shattering glass.

No. You’ve got it wrong there. That isn't the sound of shattering glass. Yuri grinned, unfolding his shirt.

It was the sound of freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not kidding
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZ31pyTZdh0
> 
> Put on a pair of headphones and listen to this glorious soft melody. It's gorgeous, like sinking into a hot bath, or a six-hour phone call to a friend where you end up giggling at how shitfaced you sound at three in the morning. Maybe that's just me, but this song is definitely worth your time.
> 
> See you all next chapter!


	25. I choose, I choose the mountain, with all its stress and strain. Because only by climbing, can I rise above the plain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, I have no good excuse for this....
> 
> Basically, I've been busy. Not that that's important, but I've also had writers block. Idk, I can't remember half of it, but it hit me like a truck, and now here we are :\
> 
> Sorry, I guess, but at least this chapter is pretty good, so...  
> Enjoy!

The next time the other fairy came around, he struck.

“Alright,” he said, staring at the floor. Each breath flooded him, and he swallowed. “I’ll come with you. I’ll meet the king.”

Phichit took the bait without question. “Ok!” he said, grinning excitedly. “Believe me, you won’t regret this.”

“I’ll try to… talk to him.”

“That’s great Yuri!” He cried, clapping his hands together. “I’ll have to talk to some people- oh, and get you some nicer clothes! Something more fit for the court-“ he rambled, nodding at someone off to the side. “Just, try to listen to his point of view, okay?”

“Sure,” Yuri muttered, fiddling with his hem.

“I’ll be back soon!” Phichit said, waving through the bars at him. “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t be too long now.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He said, calmly, trying not to grit his teeth.

 

*

 

He unfolded his shirt, and picked out the cleanest, sharpest shard. A long one, the size of his palm. A thin sliver of glass, distorting his skin. He placed the shard in a book, sliding it carefully into the spine. Yuri couldn’t read the words in it anyway. No reason to open it.

He gathered up the rest, wrapping it in his old shirt. Yuri needed to get rid of it. If they searched his room, a bundled up shirt would be noticed immediately.

So he crushed them, smacking the side of his shirt against the wall, then using a larger book to crush them further.

Yuri poured the shards down the sink.

Flawless.

 

*

 

When they came for him, he was ready. The shard sat, still and slim in the hem of his shirt. When he needed to use it, he’d be able to wiggle it out.

Phichit smiled gently at him. “Believe me,” he rambled on, walking down the hallway. “He’s actually not that bad. I was pretty damn horrible when I first came here, and he was very accommodating!” Yuri nodded, barely hearing him over the pounding of his heart.

Fuck, was he really going to do this? Everyone had been insisting that the King wasn’t that bad. But…

Fuck it.

Fuck it all.

Was there anything else he could do? He had this responsibility, to everything and everyone he’d lost. His mother, father… their images were getting harder and harder to recall.

His mother, he could still picture her face. The roundness of her chin, and her bright peculiar gaze. Her silhouette, it stained his dreams with warm shadows, yellow hair draped over his body while they crept away from the world. Had they been in a cave? She crawled, pushed him deep into the darkness. Yuri wanted to cry, he could feel her worry trickling from the bond, but she stroked his hair.

 _“Papa’s close,”_ she murmured, looking beyond her shoulder. Her eyes were alight, bright in the darkness. It softened the darkness, shades of gold comforting him. She shuffled inwards, crawling up close to her chest. There wasn’t enough room, but she made room, gathering his four-year-old self up on her soft warm stomach.

 _“He’ll be here, Papa-“_ She cut herself off, gaze widening. There was the sound, or maybe there wasn’t. Mama looked as though she’d been slapped, face frozen in impact.

He hadn’t felt it himself. But now, he knew the sensation. The bond, snapping across the distance. One soul being spit back into two. The immediate intensity of it, insistent feelings and shouts of _wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong_ across his mind. It wasn’t pain, it was crushing years of loneliness, perverted and distorted emptiness.

Mama didn’t even scream. She began to sob into her hands, trembling. With a careful press of fingers to his neck, he couldn’t get to her thoughts. He couldn’t see her now, it was too dark, but the little light filtering through the gap made her face shine with tears.

When they left, she had been permanently changed. Her face, sullen and sallow, dull yellow eyes pressed close to the ground. Such a strong woman! She had fought for years, losing everything she had loved, and for what? Now her husband, bond-partner, father to her children, and love of her life was now cold and dead.

How could she live on, knowing she’d never get him back? Years upon years of love created their shared space, and it had all crumbled down in an instant. Of course, he understood her perfectly now. Why she had left him with Grandpa, why she had become void of emotion and life. He was naïve before, and now he was less so.

Losing the bond, even the shallow, one-way bond with Otabek, had been world-ending. Their bond space, as empty as it had been, was still there, but cut off from everything. Existing, but utterly useless at the moment. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was still alive, breathing, living and existing with his heart beating, Yuri wouldn’t have been able to recover.

 _I understand everything._ He thought, blinking at the bright windows they passed. The carpet had turned deep red, with gold trimmings. Phichit was chattering away, but he had heard none of it, holding onto the glass for dear life. _I understand why you left me, I understand. If it felt even an inch like that, then I understand everything you did._

That sacrifice couldn’t be wasted.

He squeezed his eyelids shut, then back open.

It was time.

 

*

 

Phichit lay a hand on his shoulder, and pushed him through the doors. A grin, probably meant to be reassuring, flickered over his features, before they turned to face what was in front of him.

The library was large, books and tables and large hung paintings of women and men in royal clothing. Yuri felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck, taking in the space before him. The bright carpets of red and gold, exquisite – almost white- wooden tables. A large window, lined in white curtains brought in streams of light, tugging his attention to the rich velvet backed books.

“Shit,” he murmured, and there he was…

The King, flush in a soft blue robe, sat straight across from him. He lifted his head, and smiled.

 _Smiled._ Yuri gripped onto his shirt, half in terror. It felt as though he was filling up, from his ears to his toes pressure built up and pressed uncomfortably against his insides.

That _murderer_!

“Jean-“

“You-“ he cut himself off violently, words tearing at his throat. The King raised an eyebrow, and stood up. That hair cut! It was so similar to Otabek’s, the sides shaved. It was almost an insult. Yuri began to tremble. He could barely look at the monster! When he stood, he looked away, and a drop of sweat dripped from his nose.

“Phichit,” said the man. “What-“

“Stop!” Phichit nearly screamed, and it rang painfully in his ears. Suddenly, hands grappled at his shirt, tugging the shard of glass loose.

“No- don’t-“ That was it! It was his last chance, and it was being pulled from his fingers! To his anger and half awe, he let it slip, allowing the glass to slide from him into Phichit’s hands. A sudden tiredness hit him, breaking through his anger. It broke, shattering, and he couldn’t even glower as the half fairy held fast to the glass

“Sorry,” said Phichit, wincing. He frowned, gently placing the glass shard down. “Sorry, I- Yuri- you can’t do that- I thought-”

Why couldn’t he feel angry? It had so quickly fell from his grasp. Crap, had the other fairy cast a spell on him? He couldn’t even bring himself to feel irritation. Yuri knew that he should feel angry, but it didn’t seem like there was any reason to be.

“Gods, I’m so sorry Jean, I though he didn’t have anything on him-“ Phichit murmured, looking down at him with a strange, broken look. “I thought I had told him enough-“

“It’s okay, it’s fine-“ He reassured, wide eyed as he looked down at Yuri. Phichit clenched his fists, and a trickle of rage made Yuri wince audibly.

“Sir-“

“Leave, but monitor the hallways.” Said the King.

The door shut behind him.

Yuri shook.

“You son of a bitch.” He shook, fear still welling up from within him. There was no anger behind his words, that other fairy had removed that from him, but he knew from the bottom of his being that the king deserved it. “You goddamn _murderer_.” He seethed, and it took effort to contort his throat to make the sounds, but the look on his face made the strain worth it. His anger, his joyous rage came flooding back, drowning him in it and Yuri trembled in it’s heady grasp.

“Look, I think we have a bit of a misunder-“

“You dare-“ and the world trembled under his breath. “You dare say that _I_  have a misunderstanding!”

The King shut his mouth.

“Okay,” he said courtly. “I get it.”

“You never will fucking _get it_!” He screamed the other down, wishing that he had his magic back. He could have reduced this man to mud within seconds, crumbling this whole damn empire to the ground if he needed to! His words could never express it. Yuri felt it break over him, each wave of terrible anger slicing straight through any fear of repercussion.

Otabek would think him a monster, if he ever felt this much anger through the bond.

“You’ve never lost as much as I have!” Yuri now felt it, the anger spilling down his cheeks. Phichit placed a hand upon his shoulder, and this time he immediately shook it off. “My- everything!” He spluttered, erupting into tears. “All I’ve ever tried to-“

“I know-“ said Phichit, and Yuri twisted, glaring through his tears.

“No you-!”

“Yes, I do!” Insisted Phichit, ignoring the King’s protests behind him. “I’ve lost just as much as you! I fought for years, just like this, and I got through it!”

“Don’t talk down to me-!”

“Stop yelling!” Said Phichit. His brows furrowed, and he looked almost angry. “I know you’re upset, and I know that you’re angry, but Jean isn’t deserving of any of this!” He turned to the King, and grimaced. “He’s done so much for me. He’s tried so hard to fix everything, to clean up this mess he hasn’t made.” Clenching his jaw, he turned, and his eyes glimmered bright. “So don’t even try to pin this on him.”

Yuri spluttered. “Jean- wait, don’t tell me- you’re not-“

Phichit nodded. “I see him as a friend. He is an ally, your ally too if you can stop for a minute to calm down and let him talk.”

“He’s the damn reason they slaughtered us!” So many lives, ripped away and ruined. The King’s right arm, completely missing from his shoulder, wasn’t worth shit compared to that. Yuri trembled, glaring up through his tears. Why was the other fairy

“And you think he decided that?!” Scoffed Phichit. “He was a baby when it happened! Do you think he chose this?” Phichit shuddered, looking back over at the King. Jean looked mournful, shoulder dropped into sloped lines. A sharp look came over Phichit that Yuri couldn’t exactly place, and fingers dug into his palms.

“He- I-“ Yuri cried out, anger boiling over his lungs. It had nowhere to go but out, flowing through the tears.

“He’s done so much for us- for me.” Phichit leaned down, but his gaze didn’t make it feel patronizing. “Jean has done everything in his power to help us, so please, don’t insult him. I know how you feel, I felt the same way towards him. But he’s proven himself, a hundred times over.” Yuri gulped, feeling the world sway below him.

How could he wrap his mind around this? How was he supposed to feel? Because it felt as though the world had fallen out from under him, and he was supposed to recover in an instant. Yuri was crying like a child, but tried to pull himself back together. Otabek would never do this, would he?

Fuck… Beka…

So he wiped his tears, and nodded.

“Fine,” he rasped, digging his fingernails into his knees, then relaxing once more. “Alright, I- I’ll listen… that doesn’t mean I agree, or whatever. But- I’ll-“ why was this so hard? Otabek always made this look so easy. He had always tried to understand Yuri’s perspective, even while the fairy acted like a brat.

He took a deep breath, and forced himself to look at the king- no- Jean ahead of him. The Gods knew that man would never be a King to Yuri. “Tell me, then.”

“I’ll tell you anything. Everything.” The man swallowed, semi-smile twitchy on his face. His gaze felt almost frail now, as though he were terrified or something.

The guilt was palpable, thick in the line of his brows that were permanently stuck in a curve. The King’s blue eyes looked up through them, ashamed. Pitiful, almost.

They spoke. They spoke for a long time, and Yuri could barely remember the words between the long confessions of guilt. It slowly, but surely dawned on him, as the morning trickled by that it didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense that he should feel this level of guilt, simply by association. But as soon as the thought crossed his head, he felt sick, and swat it back out of his brain.

If the King wasn’t guilty, who was he supposed to feel anger towards? How was he supposed to get vengeance, if there was no one to enact revenge upon?

First off, the King hadn’t known about the way that they had been treated. Yuri had thought, perhaps that that had been purposeful, but the King seemed genuinely sorry.

It was after the meeting that he had tried to escape from the window, his heart desperately beating. His two sides, the two arguments in his head were clambering at each other, half wanting to find someone to blame, half wanting the king to stop feeling so gods-be-damned sorry for himself. He needed to find Otabek, and he, leaning out, imaged himself scaling down the castle walls. It was a sheer drop, but he had been irrational, and the other fairy had needed to talk him down from it.

As the days passed, they talked more and more, meeting up in the hall for dinner. They talked in the evening, careful words about the weather. He begged for Otabek, once, and the man’s face crumbled back into self-pity.

“Of course,” he said, nodding. “Of course.”

It was going to be okay. Each night, he tossed and turned, arguing with himself. Jean was a direct product of everything he hated, but the man had done nothing but tried to help.

Otabek listened to him, squeezing his lips shut with the intensity of it all.

And Yuri spoke, spoke until the words left him worn and empty.

It was going to be okay. That’s what Otabek said. Otabek was no liar, so, it must be true.

 

*

 

Phichit watched the King carefully. His fingers were steady while he held his cup, but the look of self-loathing had settled deep over his eyes. Phichit glared, pushing a mop of hair into his eyes.

“Hey,” said Jean, pouting.

“Stop it,” he said, frowning back at him. “I know what you’re thinking, and you need to stop it before I hit you or something.”

“You wouldn’t hit me.” Said the King, halfheartedly smiling as he pushed his hair back into place.

“No, but you still need to stop.”

“Stop what?” Asked the King, looking up innocently under his fringe. Phichit growled, and crossed his arms. Jean was an idiot, a complete idiot when he wasn’t a genius. His rule had gone mostly uncontested, he had mended the relationship to the surrounded kingdoms that his father had completely destroyed, and he had built a prosperous empire.

And here he sat, with self-hatred raking his brain. He still felt the need to punish himself, despite there being no point to the repetitive exercise.

“Stop blaming yourself,” he said, now gently. Jean looked up at him, uncomfortable under his gaze. “Did you tell your father to kill all fae? Did you get your arm burn off for this to happen?” Phichit let a reassuring smile cross his features

Jean’s eyes seemed the glaze over, so he closed them, leaning back in his chair. “All the same,” he sighed, and took another lazy sip from his cup. “If I wasn’t here, none of this would have happened.”

Phichit glowered at him. “You know, I’m getting real sick and tired of this. You need to stop.” The King peered up at him, wine coloring his vision. “I mean it,” warned Phichit. “Stop it. It’s not funny anymore.”

“Anymore?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What? I got a bit of a kick out of it before.” Jean rolled his eyes, and Phichit snorted, shrugging “Nothing wrong with that, especially since _no one_ had ever apologized about it before. But it isn’t your fault. It really isn’t, and it’s pissing me off that you’re even having these thoughts again.”

Jean looked off, into the sky full of stars. His eyes clouded over, and Phichit could almost see the disgust twisting his features back into that ugly, _ugly_ manifestation of guilt. There was very little light in the room, only the flicker of candles across his cheekbones, and a dim shadow from the moon. It’s yellow light made him look washed out, all husk and sallow skin.

In moments like these, he could slap the man. He had, once, but it clearly hadn’t accomplished anything. Heart clenching, he turned, wishing the other man a quick ‘ _sleep well_ ’ before slipping out the door.

 

*

 

“I didn’t know…” mumbled Otabek, eyes widening. “That there was even another fairy in the castle, much less that the King was-“

“I know,” said Yuri, looking back at Otabek with determination. “It’s almost crazy. All the things I heard from you,” he softened, linking their hands together. “I think- _thought_ that man was a monster.”

“You’ve changed your mind?” Otabek asked him, voice impossibly gentle. Gods, Otabek was almost gentle to him, handling him like glass. No one had ever touched him like he was breakable, not even Grandpa. Yuri probably would have found it condescending if it wasn’t for the endless warmth in his eyes.

“I-“ he choked, even as his thoughts implored him to find the words to express how he felt. Otabek didn’t urge him on, simply watching, and waiting for a reply. “I don’t know,”

Otabek frowned, in thought. “You don’t have to decide, if you don’t want to.”

“No?” That wasn’t exactly a relief. Yuri didn’t want to juggle these feelings. It took effort out of him, and it wasn’t something he could just let go either.

“Hmm,” he mumbled in agreement, nodding. “Sometimes, you don’t. People are complicated, humans are complicated. Your situation is yours alone. In the end, no matter whether you choose to blame him or not, it needs to make sense to you.”

“Nothing can _ever_ fix that,” said Yuri, throat tightening. “My parents, what happened to them. Its… a part of me now. I- I’ll never-“ he paused, taking a moment to swallow. “I can’t ever get anyone back.” The moment his eyes get watery, he wipes at them almost viciously. His pain is visceral, raw. “I- fuck- I can’t just forgive him, but it’s not him! It was his father, so…”

They lay in bed, and Otabek rocked them gently. Something about his voice, he didn’t want to break the silence. He just needed his moment, just to think.

“I can’t hate him,” he admitted, gritting his teeth. The words were spat out, and it settled between them, ugly damn words that made Yuri want to crawl and hide from them. “Fuck, I hate him, he’s an arrogant fuckhead, but I can’t hate him for what his father did. He was a damn kid when it happened, like me. I was four when my mom left, it’s not like I had any control over that.” His fingers were pale and cold when they laced their hands together. “Even him, I can’t blame him.”

“Whatever you decide to go with, I’ll be here.” He said, snuggling. “Whatever you want,”

“I know. Shit, my head is a damn mess. I want to blame him. It would be so much easier just to blame him!” he cried, squeezing their hands hard enough for it to hurt. “But it’s wrong! I can’t hate him for getting that monster as a father.”

Otabek paused, and lifted his hands. Kissing his knuckles tenderly, Yuri felt his chest fill with warmth. What would this be like, with the bond between them? Emotions, echoing back and forth. Would Otabek let his thoughts flow freely? Not that Yuri doubted his honesty, but humans seemed to value their privacy. Grandpa completely refused in making a familial bond between them. What would Otabek think?

“No matter your choice, I will support you.” Otabek said it with the conviction of a dying man, and Yuri felt as though he could tip and fall, fragile like glass in the hands of his lover.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Yuri closed the space between them, pulling him close enough until their breaths mingled. When their lips met, he let the smile out, and he swore that the human was grinning right back, teeth clicking sharply against teeth.

“Come on,” he laughed. “Let’s clean up, I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you again next chapter (IN A WEEK I SWEAR THIS TIME)!!!


	26. And in the spring, love, I want your laughter like the flower I was waiting for. The blue flower, the rose of my echoing country.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shit.” Said Otabek, a smile curling gently at his cheek. He tucked a wet strand of hair back behind Yuri’s ear, and grinned. “You’re gorgeous.”
> 
> Impossible. He couldn’t be more beautiful than the sight before him. Otabek sucked in a heady breath, tipping his head back in laughter. His chest was red, careful rings of teeth bitten at his collar. Yuri would love to have Otabek’s love carved into him like that. It was a feast for the eyes. The world could’ve been collapsing around them, and he wouldn’t have noticed a thing.

They were both drained. Emotionally and physically exhausted, Otabek sank into the water. It was hot, in that good kind of way that made his skin prickle and eyes water. Yuri watched him strip with wide eyes.

“Shit,” he gave Otabek a grin as bright as the sun. Otabek gave him an appreciative raised eyebrow, and pushed the hair out of his eyes.

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

“I swear,” said Yuri, biting his lip. “I could never get bored of this.” His hunger had stripped the soft layer of fat from his stomach, and his muscles stood clear against his skin. Yuri loved the little reminders that his lover was so much stronger than he was.

Shit, he didn’t want to know where those thoughts led, or maybe he did, because Otabek tugged down his pants, only allowing Yuri a quick glimpse of the cock between his legs. He had seen it before, he had been face to face with the monster, but the time apart had desensitized him - and – fuck – was that the size all humans were? How the hell was he supposed to fit-

Otabek groaned, slipping into the water. Almost immediately at the sound, Yuri felt a beat of arousal. “Come, before it gets cold,” he said, gently. Shivering, he pulled off his shirt, carefully working the material out from under his wings. He didn’t have muscles like Otabek. His stomach was flat, skin pale.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t be sexy though.

He tossed his long hair over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows at Otabek. He wouldn’t be able to tell what Otabek felt - moments like these he cursed that damn elf for cutting them off from each other- but his eyes would give it away. Already, his gaze went straight to Yuri’s cock.

“Like what you see?” he bit his lip harder, flushing while he tried not to laugh. He tried to gently flutter his wings, but near shit himself when he bumped into the lantern. Classy.

“I always like seeing you.” Said Otabek, still as serious as always. Yuri snorted, nearly tripping as he wriggled out of his pants. He turned, and Otabek’s eyes were determinedly still pinned to his own. Otabek didn’t rush him, watching warmly from the bathtub while he undressed. He gave Otabek an awkward wink, chortling. He wiggled his hips, exposing his thighs to view, watching his eyes cloud over at the swath of skin.

“You always like seeing me, hmm…?” He cracked a smile, and Otabek’s eyes were unmoving. Annoyed that he was the only one losing his self-control, he leaned over the side of the bathtub. There were crinkles beside Otabek’s eyes, full of warmth. Otabek’s lip quirked, and the space between them seemed to shrink in, lips meeting across the gap.

The more Yuri got to know him, the more he realized that Otabek did everything with the determination and conviction of a dying man. For his whole life, he had lived on the cusp of death, and had learned to live each day as though it were his last. It made sense, that he kissed like he was running out of air, running out of time.

Gods, he was warm. Everything about the human made Yuri feel warm. He let out a short giggle as Otabek licked into mouth, then soft caress of his tongue scrambling his insides. Otabek’s hands ran down his sides, warm water rolling to his toes. He pulled him in, until they were almost chest to chest.

“Fuck-“ he rasped, and Otabek smiled into the kiss, and in a moment he was pressing a thumb along the line of his wings. Pleasure sparked up his back, down his spine. Yuri flared, stomach tightening. “Fuck, warm me up a bit first. They’re really sensitive.”

“Got it,” rumbled Otabek, languidly kissing his neck. Cracking an evil grin, Otabek pulled him up, and they both tumbled into the soapy bathwater. They kissed, warm water doing nothing to stop the hardness pressing up against his thigh.

“Shit,” gasping for breath, he cackled at the expression on Otabek’s face. He seemed almost overwhelmed, presented with far too much to deal with at once. “You really like me, don’t you?”

“Hmm.” He said, shuddering. “I don’t think it’s possible for me not to like you.”

Yuri buried his head in Otabek’s shoulder, and groaned. “Stop it.” He moaned, and felt hands run through his hair. “Stop it you _sap_ …”

“I love you, Yuri, but please get off my dick-“

“Shit, oops.” He shifted his knee to the other side on Otabek, kissing his cheek in apology.

“It is true, though.” Said Otabek, squeezing his hips. “I do love you. I don’t say it enough.”

“You say it more than enough.” It was a good thing that the steam from the bathwater made it almost impossible to tell that his eyes were getting watery. “Gods, you goddamn sappy piece of shit - fucking miracle- I love you!” He said the words between kisses, but Otabek understood, loud and clear.

Otabek laughed, kissing him fast and hard, but full of so much love the kisses might as well have been sugar soaked. They washed each other down, days of prison muck and mud swept back with soap and water, and Yuri’s gentle, yet determined hands. Otabek was beautiful, big and strong. He had been honed to fight, but over the months he had softened a bit.

He poured soap into his hands, sweet smelling almond stuff. He rubbed along his arms, pushing his thumbs into the soft curve of his muscles. Leaning down, he brought himself closer to Otabek’s chest, and _breathed_. Gods, how he had missed this smell. Almond, cloves.

It was strange, how he hadn’t noticed that on anyone else. The intensity of his scent; no other had smelled that way before. He should have expected it, living with so many other humans. Their stink should have been everywhere, but all he could smell was Otabek.

Another question to ask the other fairy. Later though.

Stupid fucking _lavender_ , ha.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he spat. “Close your eyes, I want to wash your hair.” Otabek’s eyes danced with mirth, but he said nothing, tipping his head forward for him to continue. When had he ever seen a neutral face on the man? His eyes were just as emotive. All you needed to do was pay a bit of attention.

Yuri scooped up water in his hands, and washed the soap away, and felt his hair between his fingers. It was as soft as groomed fur, and he dug his hands in, pushing it back before pulling their lips together. Otabek rose an eyebrow, eyes dark.

Straddling him, he leaned down, nipping at his collar bone. With a sudden curiosity, he kissed at Otabek’s ear. “Hey, can I try something? I want to see if you’ll like this.”

“Go ahead,” Otabek nodded, raising an eyebrow. Otabek wouldn’t judge Yuri for his curiosity. Biting at his lips, Yuri cautiously kissed at his faintly pink nipples, then gently pulled on them with his teeth. Fuck, Otabek didn’t think this was weird, right?

“No?” he mumbled, looking at Otabek’s face for any sign. “It’s not…”

“Not really,” murmured Otabek. “Do you want me to try that on you?” He looked up, knowing. Of course Otabek would think that, being the considerate asshole he was. Yuri could see the cheekiness radiating from him, hidden under that stern polite exterior.

“Okay,” the stirrings of nervousness began in his chest, but he pushed it down. Otabek rubbed at his nipples, in gentle circles. Then he leaned forward, taking one into his mouth. He bit, very gently, at it, rolling the other between his thumb and finger.

“Okay?”

“Can you – shit-“ Otabek’s knee pressed carefully against his cock. “Bite a little harder?”

“Harder?”

“Yeah, I’m not made of glass,” Was it strange, that a little bit of pain made it better? Otabek didn’t seem to mind, nipping more determinedly at his hardening peaks. Yuri sucked in a breath, clutching at Otabek’s shoulder. “Gods, that’s perfect,” he sighed, rubbing along Otabek’s back. He should probably return the favor. Otabek’s cock strained against his thigh; the constant rubbing probably had him frustrated.

Yuri took him in hand, pumping, taking a moment to look and caress before stroking rapidly. Otabek was thick, hard red against Yuri’s fleshy palm. The noises Otabek made, tensing up against his chest, his bites halting, changing into gasps. He didn’t moan, breathing hard against Yuri’s arms while he stroked up, running a thumb over his tip where Yuri knew that it’d feel good.

“Wait,” he said, coiling. “Wait, you too-“ Otabek’s eyes were wide, blown out black with the intensity of it.

“Damn romantic,” Yuri shuddered as a hand wrapped around his own length, rubbing. Suddenly, he could barely concentrate, suddenly drowning in pleasure, the hand around his cock tugging him closer, and he was there now, tumbling. “Ah, -Bek,” he cried, quietly finishing in Otabek’s hand.

Shit, he hadn’t meant to go that quickly, and he had completely forgotten about Beka. With an apologetic kiss, he tugged on his cock – once- twice- then once more. Otabek bit at his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as he came with a whimper. He eased himself up, kissing Yuri hard on the lips.

“Shit.” Said Otabek, a smile curling gently at his cheek. He tucked a wet strand of hair back behind Yuri’s ear, and grinned. “You’re gorgeous.”

Impossible. He couldn’t be more beautiful than the sight before him. Otabek sucked in a heady breath, tipping his head back in laughter. His chest was red, careful rings of teeth bitten at his collar. Yuri would love to have Otabek’s love carved into him like that. It was a feast for the eyes. The world could’ve been collapsing around them, and he wouldn’t have noticed a thing.

 

*

 

For every action, there is a reaction. It’s just simple logic, isn’t it? Has there ever been a time in history where this hasn’t been true? From the first moments of life until the last dying breathes of the universe, there hasn’t been a moment where the phrase hasn’t been accurate.

The King’s son was grievously injured. Millions of fae were murdered in return.

Otabek lost his father, then his mother. For years he became an emotional, raging wreck of a man.

Yuri never knew his people, and for years he harbored and slugged along his regret. It wasn’t his fault, but what else could he have done? Being one of the only survivors, he felt that the burden being placed on him was too heavy a load to bare alone.

Obviously, if you’d spent years alone, you would want to connect to the first thing, heck, the first damn human to come along.

After a little thought, Yuri came to that conclusion. If he hadn’t been alone, he probably would’ve left Otabek to die. It still haunted him, how he could’ve missed out on this. How could Otabek care so much, without even knowing or understanding? Yuri couldn’t understand him, couldn’t understand his overwhelming and sometimes incomprehensible affection.

But, every action has a reaction, doesn’t it?

Don’t forget, because Yuri couldn’t ever forget that look on the man’s face whom he had just crumbled into dust. The fear, the pain… why couldn’t he feel any worse about it. Otabek didn’t tell him, but he could barely talk about the people he’s killed. His scars from his battles streaked across his back, almost beautiful, but Otabek didn’t even like him touching them. He felt guilty, but Yuri didn’t. He should. It was the sane thing to feel. If he didn’t feel guilty, then what could he feel towards the man he had killed. It was the face that haunted him, not his own actions, and he didn’t feel guilty about either.

Otabek reassured him that it wasn’t a bad thing. Yuri rubbed the tension from his shoulders, and frowned into the crook in his neck. He couldn’t read the human’s expression. But Otabek probably didn’t like it in the slightest. Of course, it was a bad thing! He had killed someone, but whenever he tried to imagine the blood being on his own hands, it always felt otherwise. How could he have killed someone? It didn’t feel like he had, as though he were watching the experience through a bond, through someone else’s eyes. Like the unfamiliar licks of emotions from another person, it was impersonal.

That wasn’t the last of their problems. Otabek was a well-known figure, and it only took so long for the rest of the Army to get back to the capital. They would never convict him, as the city was still completely unaware of his presence. The King has squashed out any rumors of him. Jean wouldn’t dream of doing anything to punish him, his father’s reputation was already too much.

So, the punishment was placed on Otabek.

You can only imagine how much that stung.

Yuri found it outrageous. Otabek had barely touched the man. He had brought him down, grabbing at him with his teeth, but he hadn’t killed him.

He had begged the King, pleaded to Jean that the sentence should be placed on him instead. Someone needed to pay; the man was a soldier, and had been ‘wrongfully’ killed. If someone needed to pay, then let it be him!

The King couldn’t answer. Yakov was insistent. His death was known, and if no punishment was dealt then there would almost certainly be chaos between the troops.

Nervously, the fairy paced the corridors, waiting for the meeting to be over. He wanted to be in that room. He was in half the mind to throw open the doors and pull Otabek back to their room. Their room, no other. Phichit had tried to give them separate rooms, but they had both insisted on the one. Yuri doubted he’d ever be comfortable sleeping alone again.

When he came through the doors, Yuri clutched him like he was going to melt.

“One year-“ he gasped, and Yuri felt the loss like a blow to the side. “Military service.”

“What the fuck-“ Yuri seethed, anger coiling back up in his stomach, but Otabek huffed, wrapping him closer. It didn’t matter, they were all still inside. None of the bastards could keep him away from his bondmate.

“The King- he tried to talk the general down to a lower sentence-“

“You fucking let me-“

“It’s the best-“ Said Otabek, pulling back and looking him straight in the eye. “-deal that I could’ve gotten! They _kill_ people for doing stuff like this Yuri. One year? It’s amazing he was able to get it that low in the first place.”

Yuri grit his teeth. This wasn’t fair- why couldn’t Otabek see it?

“I didn’t ask for you to look on the bright side.”

“It’s a year.” He murmured, as the others came through the door. “Only a year.”

Otabek genuinely seemed grateful for the result. _Only a year_ , he murmured to himself, when the loneliness began to dig at him. Comparatively, the sentence was a god-send. Living it, however, was going to be hell.

They still had time. Time to live, breath, safe within the castle walls. Tomorrow, perhaps he would work up the courage to go down to Phichit. To find the answers to his questions, to learn. Maybe, if he learned enough, he wouldn’t have to stay from Otabek. He’d be able to tag along with the army. Otabek wouldn’t like it – not in the slightest. If that wasn’t possible, then he’d have to would something else out.

Later.

Later though.

Right now, all he wanted to do was hold Otabek, wrap his arms tight around him, and sleep in the safety of their room.

“Come on,” he said, and laced their fingers together. His fingers were cool, his palms damp from stress. Otabek frowned, following him. They curled up together, and Yuri only barely hid his tears.

Later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote one half of this drunk. Guess which half XD  
> I fixed the spelling, and I think drunk me got a little too creative with the metaphors, but I'm actually a pretty okay writer while drunk. The more you know! Besides, I don't really remember writing it, so it was funny to read over. Surprising comprehensive too!
> 
> How's your week been? I'm really happy I finished this chapter this week, and I can't wait to start working on the next chapter!
> 
> Next week: LORE + SMUT


	27. A pocketful of sympathy can stop a heart from hurting. Or catch a tear that's falling, like a raindrop down a cheek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond Part 1

Otabek didn’t enjoy killing. The ironic thing about killing another man was that you needed some shred of naivety to do it. But Gods, how he had missed the sound of metal against metal. The bite of the handle in his hand, the heaviness of the armor over his shoulders, and the sweat in his eyes. There was nothing quite like a good fight.

Mila danced around him, light on her feet. She grinned, sucking in air from between her teeth. The other men had initially laughed at her. They weren’t laughing now, with bruised limbs and possibly two broken fingers watching morosely from the sidelines, she had beat them all in a clean sweep.

“What did you expect?” she gestured towards the man at her feet, grinning manically. The man peered up at her, near tears and terrified at the red head above him. She winked, and waved at Yakov. “He only accepts the best.”

Otabek had never doubted her. On multiple occasions she had saved his life, and expected no compensation. She was small, a compact woman with one hell of a temper. Yakov, after all, only chose the best, and she was definitely high up there. Mila was loyal to a fault, and Otabek was glad he could count her among his friends. That list always seemed to be getting smaller by the year.

Mila could sense his distraction, as she swung high in hopes of hitting his neck, but he blocked her, pivoting the sword away. She jolted, pulling back, watching him carefully.

“Come on, big man!” She taunted, and the men along the stands spired her on, jeering. Mila grinned, squeezing the handle of her sword tighter. “You keep leaving openings, such a generous man, chivalrous really-”

“Play fair,” he sighed, blinking sweat out of his eyes. The armor was too hot, too clunky for him. He would have preferred something lighter, but he’d rather not risk it. Yuri would never forgive him if he got his head hacked off for the sake of a stupid bet.

Her eyes crinkled, and she swung again, a thin blade of silver coming at him faster than he could blink. He dodged, but she swung again, slicing through the air with perfect aim. The blade chinked off his chest as he leapt back.

“You’re better than this,” she seethed, and a thrill went through his spine. He was better than this. They had been like this; at each other’s necks before. Mila was good, but there was never a moment where he found himself backtracking, twisting and moving to avoid her. It wasn’t natural, the ease of route learned moves that he slipped into as easily as slipping on a mask. Now, it only felt wonky.

She didn’t rest, and flung herself towards him, and he shifted his foot, a sharp pain running through his side. Oh, that would be one hell of a bruise. It stung, the after wave of the hit wasn’t painful, but it sent sickening retching curls to his stomach. He could taste the bile in his throat.

Mila noticed, and a look of anger crossed her face. With a short, quick motion, she slammed the sword heavily into his side again, then again. “Fight me properly!” Her eyes dug into him, raging with bitter anger.

Yes, he had been better than this. Obviously, he wasn’t up to her standard.

All that time with Yuri, engulfed in the unknown, he had never felt the love he had with Yuri. There was no woman, nor any man that he could imagine in his place. Yuri hadn’t touched him with any kind of reverence. He had been gentle, and he had been rough, but it was never without love. Maybe, being bathed in that love had done things to him, unwoven him and reworked him into another shape.

Or maybe, just like the eyes before him were saying, he was being a poetic bastard.

Adjusting the sword in his hand, he hunched his shoulders. The next swung that came; he would be ready for it. First, he would defend himself, and when she missed a step – as she would eventually – he would strike

Mila knew him too well. Could she sense that he had shifted his stance?

He grit his teeth, and stared across the dirt between them. She lifted her hand, wiping her eyes. She too, had begun to sweat. The heat now seemed to rumble up from within, and the cool clean sheen of sweat across his forehead didn’t deter him. Otabek’s eyes were burning, but it was time to strike.

Clenching, he came out swinging, a solid sharp point from the air downwards towards her. Mila rolled out from underneath, heaving heavy breathed. A thin powder of dust gathered on her face from her roll, but he didn’t look long, and slammed himself against her, tackling her to the ground. A resounding groan from the men came across from the seats, but Otabek gave them no mind as he rushed to hold her down.

“Fuck you, damn brute!” Yelling, she slammed her elbow into his neck, trying to wretch free. “Cheating fuckhead!”

“Cheating?”

“This is about skill, not weight,” Mila glared up at him, mirth in her eyes. “You’re heavy,” she coughed, nudging at his neck. He raised an eyebrow, squeezing her wrists.

“And?”

She sighed, finally coming to a resignation. “Fine, you win.” He stood, dusting off his armor. The dust seemed to gather on everything here, a thin sheen of dust was on every surface. He had forgotten how much of it there was. Maybe his nostalgia had prevented him from remembering this.

Mila clambered up, waving at the other men. They clearly didn’t like that he had tackled her.

“They didn’t tackle me,” she huffed.

“And I did.” He said, blandly regarding the look of annoyance on their faces. “That’s why I won. Do you think your enemy is going to be kind and respectful?”

“Point taken.” She said, nodding. “Sometimes, you don’t need to play fair. Sometimes, you just need to be bigger.” She huffed, looking across at him. “Don’t pull that shit around Yakov though, he’ll have your throat.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Mila must have thought he looked funny, because she chuckled. She waved at the other men, but tugged Otabek along. There was a warm glint in her eye, something sharp and familiar.

“You owe me that drink,” he said, smiling at her. She shot him a sharp look.

It was nice, being back around his oldest friends. He remembered, as he sat across from her, how they had met. She was his age, a tough girl, who at the age of thirteen had survived the burning of her village. The elves didn’t care who they harmed; they burned down every human town in their region. She had grown up around these people, and over time, they had come to hate her. The resentment had built, she confessed at seventeen over strong mead that made his stomach turn, yes, the resentment had built over time. Her neighbors had cared, and she had cared for them – but – it hadn’t been enough it the end.

It started slowly, the resentment. The fear, the careful stares through the streets. They were naturally suspicious, and this was only encouraged by the tension between the two kingdoms. Her friends, most of them elves, began to avoid her, nervous around her. They had magic, and were scared for their children. So they scared their children, imploring them to stay away from her.

She hated it, the slow burn of prejudice. It trickled into them. People whom she had regarded as close friends had all of a sudden become dangerous strangers. The worst kind of hatred comes from those who knew you, after all.

One night, she had awoken to the sound of bells. Large pounding bells that made her ears ring and heart beat. Wondering through empty houses, clean swept and clear of elves, she realized in a streak of horror what those bells meant. Her heart sank, a moment too later, her heartbeat scattering – frantic- the fire was coming! The bells had been on the other side of town. Enchanted bells that had alerted the elves, perhaps hours before.

Mila hadn’t gone on about it. Her parents had died, but most of their parents were dead anyway. “No point in milking it,” she said, a bitter shine to her teeth as she smiled into her drink.

 Covered in mud and soot, she had made her way out. Barely, she escaped without burns, the tips of her hair gently singed but otherwise fine.

They were very much alike in their suffering. They understood each other’s grief. It was something primal, something his lover would never able to understand. There were very few people left that could understand Yuri’s pain, but there were thousands that could relate to his.

Losing his parents at that age, as many others had, was fair from a unique experience. Jean’s Kingdom could mourn as well, at the similarity of the loss. They hadn’t been prosecuted, as Yuri had. Perhaps Mila could also relate to Yuri, in that sense.

It pained him that he couldn’t help Yuri. At times, he’d be racked with guilt and grief. He wouldn’t say anything, and let the thoughts stew until they came burbling out in a fit of tears. Especially now that they were here, in the castle, he was reminded of how different he was by the hour. Only Phichit had wings. Everyone else was straight-backed, and human, with the occasional elf in between.

It must be lonely, he thought, while making his way to the back garden to where the two fairies would be busy training. To be the only one left, the only known one to have survived a horrible fate. Otabek would never be able to fully understand.

It didn’t mean he couldn’t support Yuri, or try to understand him, but it must have been lonely.

They were both inside the hut. It was in the garden, an old brick storage room resting up against the castle wall that had been converted into a study. Ivy had climbed up the sides, and it suited the building, lovely curls of green and yellow giving the place a somewhat mysterious aura. Yuri was busy, pouring over books and notes. His wings were beating, a little more than a quiver as though he were thumping along to a beat. He didn’t notice Otabek, squinting intently over the parchment.

The place was cluttered, books piled up around the room. The windows were thrown open, but the smell of paper, dust and ink still lingered in the air. There were unlit candles still stuck to the large wooden table in the center of the room. Bottles and vials full of powders and liquids rested on dusty shelves above a small fireplace.

Phichit looked up, and hit him with a grin. “Hey!” he called out, waving. Otabek awkwardly waved back. Yuri didn’t blink, entranced with the text before him. With a gentle sigh, he wrapped his arms around his shoulders, and pressed a kiss behind his ear. Yuri snorted, and finally looked up.

“Hey,” he murmured, a careful flush over his nose.

“Hi,” said Otabek, and found himself lost of what to say. This had been happening more and more recently. Yuri would be the death of him, he was sure of it. His heart ached with happiness, and he could help the smile at his lips. “Busy? What are you studying?”

“Well,” said Yuri, looking back down at his papers, blinking for a moment. “Phichit wants to break off the block I have on my magic.” At the mention, he absentmindedly rubbed at the blue marks on his wrist.

“Hmm,” he nodded. “Can it be done?”

“Soon,” said Phichit, but he was frowning slightly. “I’m still a bit nervous though. I don’t want to strengthen the block, or break it at the wrong place.”

“Break it at the wrong place?”

Yuri cringed. “Yeah – no – that would be pretty shit. It might hurt my abilities, or something. I don’t really know, there hasn’t been a lot of texts written on blockers. We don’t really know what would happen, but-“

“It’s better to be cautious.” Said Phichit, giving Yuri a relieved smile. “I’ve got one last little problem though.”

“Yeah?” Yuri looked up at him.

“I don’t know if your bond –“ he gestured between the two, “ – survived the blocker?”

“I mean,” said Yuri, going pale. “I don’t… feel anything? I didn’t explore the bond at all, before the blocker. I could feel it at the back of my mind, but I ignored it most of the time. It feels kinda numb now, where it was.”

“Numb?” That didn’t sound at all good to Otabek, who was barely following the conversation at this point. Blockers? At the back of his mind? He had felt the effects of the bond, but numbness? That definitely didn’t sound good.

“It’s not an empty space though, right?” Said Phichit, leaning forward on his elbows, fascinated. Yuri shook his head, squinting as he tried to concentrate. “Could I take a look? If it’s not a problem? I don’t think I’ve heard anyone describe a bond as numb before.”

“Yeah, when I – sort of poke it?” Murmured Yuri, biting his lip. “It doesn’t feel like anything.”

“No headaches though?”

“Nothing like that…”

“Great!” cried Phichit, and walked around the desk, almost tripping over a stack of books before he reached the other side. “It’s probably not a dead bond then!”

Otabek didn’t understand. Dead bond? Bonds could die? Curious, he watched the two as Phichit placed a finger on Yuri’s wrist.

“Careful,” said Yuri, glaring up at him. “Don’t go exploring, just find where it is. I swear, Phichit-“

“I get it, I get it!” Phichit smiled, and sat down.

“Should I-“

“Just grab a chair,” grumbled Yuri, pointing beside him. “He’s just checking on the bond.”

Phichit’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I love your mind, it’s so expressive! I’m almost jealous,” he said, winking playfully at Otabek.

“Yeah, yeah, in your goddamn dreams.” Said Yuri, glaring off the praise. He closed his eyes, leaning back his head. It was silent for a moment, Phichit’s fingers readjusting over his pulse.

“I can’t find it,” muttered Phichit, and Yuri groaned, wings fluttering in annoyed motions. “Where is it? Help me- oh!” his eyes went wide, and he grinned. “Never mind! Here- oh – that’s really weird.”

“I know, it doesn’t hurt, it’s just not responsive,”

“OH! I see, it’s –“ he cut himself off, and frowned. “I’ve never seen this before. That’s really strange…”

“What?” said Yuri, frowning. His fingers tightened over his knee.

“What sort of bond is this?” Asked Phitchit slowly, pressing his thumb over Yuri’s pulse. “It’s like a… one sided marriage bond? But not quite, it’s not that strong, but it’s not weak enough for anything else?”

Otabek listened intently, frowning. It wasn’t a marriage bond? Or a healing bond?

“Phichit, what?” Muttered Yuri, opening an eye.

“Did you make some sort of hybrid!?” Cried Phichit, leaping back. “Sweet God of light- I need to write this down! I knew that there were some constraints put into place when learning set methods from the academy, I could never have come up with something like this – I mean you basically learnt magic on your own so it makes sense that it would be different – but this is amazing!” He rattled out excitedly.  “You’re combining things! Like what you did with the healing and the vine, and now with the bond! You’re combining everything, because you’ve never learned to separate the different types of magic!” Phichit huffed, grabbing a quill. “This is huge! I need to write to the academy!”

“Are you serious?” muttered Yuri. “What about breaking the block?”

“I think… I think we can try tomorrow,” Phichit said, scribbling on a piece of parchment. “I think I’ll have enough prepared by then. I really don’t want to mess up and hurt you, or I would’ve done it sooner. I know how to do it, but theory is a lot different in practice.”

“Tomorrow?” and with that, a giant smile bloomed across his face. Yuri leapt up, and gripped Otabek’s forearms. He smiled too, and Otabek could feel his chest filling with warmth. What would this feeling feel like, once they were connected again? “So that’s confirmed? Tomorrow then?” Otabek asked, and the fairy nodded.

“Tomorrow,” he cried, throwing kisses across his cheeks. Yuri looked happier than ever, and Otabek didn’t even care that the other fairy was in the room. “Tomorrow we’ll finally be connected again!” Yuri was almost giddy as he collected a few book before following Otabek out.

“Tomorrow,” he murmured, and looped a strand of blond hair behind Yuri’s ear. “Thank you, you two have worked so hard for this.”

Yuri shook his head. “Thank you, Beka, for being here. For supporting me through everything.” He paused, holding his tongue. “I… I know I haven’t been right to you. Not in the beginning, anyway.”

“It made sense,” Otabek didn’t think he had meant anything from back then. Yuri had been scared when they first met. He knew nothing about Otabek. For all he knew, Otabek could’ve hurt him.

“Still,” Yuri scuffed his shoes. They made their way up the stairs, Yuri’s wings fluttering slightly on each step, as if to help him. “I should have been better to you. You deserve better.”

“That’s bullshit,” said Otabek. “Yuri, I don’t know how the hell I deserved this. This,” he said, gestured outwards, trying to find some sort of way to encapsulate his whole experience into a single phrase. “Everything I have now, is because of you. Back then, you didn’t know me. I was a soldier, I had been trained to kill people.” Yuri didn’t speak, and looked away. “You had every right to mistrust me.”

At his silence, Otabek wrapped him close. They were in the hallway; anyone could come in and see, but Otabek held him close. Maybe if he held him, the fairy would let the guilt pour away.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he whispered, and kissed the pulse in his neck. “Because I love you. I love you, I love you, and I’ll say that as many times as I need to.”

The fairy nodded against his shoulder, clutching his books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote nearly 8000 words, so I had to split the chapter in half. I feel kinda bad about not posting any smut this chapter. I promise, it is in the next chapter XD
> 
> See you all next chapter!


	28. And I will die of love because I love you, because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do it,” he said, and doesn’t need Yuri to ask him if it’s okay. He’d never been as open as he had been there, and Yuri could’ve felt the sincerity even if the bond hadn’t existed. He was ready, ready to feel, ready to know.
> 
> “I really do love you,” said Yuri, a flush crawling up his ears giving away his nervousness.
> 
> “I do too. I keep thinking,” and the words were whispered in a way that made them feel treasurable and delicate. “I keep thinking I can’t love you any more than I already do, but then I wake up to this-“ Beka’s eyes glint, and he held Yuri’s forearms. “-And I can’t help it.”
> 
> “Sentimental bastard,” Yuri whispered, fingers clammily digging into Otabek’s shoulder.
> 
> “Are you going to get on with it then?”
> 
> Yuri nodded, sniffling. He doesn’t break eye contact as he guided Yuri’s hand back to his neck, gently but firmly. For you, I’d do anything, and he couldn’t tell if Yuri had heard or felt his sentiment. He shivered, the foreign sensation of Yuri’s consciousness beginning to saturate his mind. The grip on Yuri’s wrist tightened, and a soothing hand held his cheek as they went under.

It was almost time. He could feel it, itching away at his bones. Absentmindedly, Yuri found himself poking at the back of his mind, pressing against the numb area of his mind. When he felt closer with a mental finger, he felt warmth. He wished he could delve deeper, but the barrier pressed back against him. A spangled – and if Yuri needed to put a color to it – blue wall in his mind, where it had no right to be. The more he investigated, the clearer the picture of it became.

Phichit had told him that it was just practice. Visualizing the mental landscape, he had called it. Such flowery language. He just wanted the thing gone.

He was ready to go. He had read all the books, and practiced the various spells on a few poor plants. One example he thought was very interesting was the bean sprout and the box experiment. He had linked two plants, and left one in the sun and the other was in permanent darkness. A third one was placed alongside the one in the cabinet. The first two remained healthy, while the third wilted and went sallow. It was a simple experiment, but something he would never have thought of. It paid to listen to Phichit, despite his sickly sweet perspective.

Resting in the sun, a morning routine he had abandoned since they got here, he stretched out, enjoying the fresh course of energy through his veins. Phichit looked on at the span of his wings, shiny in the morning light. They were in the garden, and he lay on his stomach in the grass. The cool dew felt nice against his legs.

Yuri squinted up at him. He would ask the other man to join him, but a part of him still wasn’t comfortable around his wings. He shouldn’t have been so repulsed by them, but the size and how they twitch, it made him very uncomfortable.

“Your hair is in the way. Let me help, wait!” He leaned down, gracefully sinking onto his knees. With fluidity, he tugged his hair out of the way, and began to braid.

“You know how to braid?” The hands on his scalp were gentle, experienced.

“Not really,” Phichit said, winking. Huffing, Yuri turned, burying his face in the grass.

If he thought about it, he was basically getting married today. Flushing, he smiled, tasting the dew on his lips. The thought had his heart racing, hell, it had him sweating like mad. He was nervous, and rightfully so. Married by bond, at the very least. Yuri knew human standards were different, requiring a religious covenant as well. Humans didn’t seem to have marriage between those of the same gender either, which was strange. He wondered, ears burning, if Beka would want to do it the human way too.

Yuri wouldn’t object. He has seen into the mind of his lover – his bondmate – and even if it was only for a moment while they were in great danger, it had been comforting to have him so close, their minds becoming one. The sudden closeness brought their minds together, weaving underneath  each other, stray thoughts flowing freely. It gave him the courage to fight back.

He would teach Otabek to build up his mental barriers. The first few days were probably going to be intense. He remembered, how when his mother had lost his father, she liked to lean right up against the bond, thoughts streaming. She needed comfort, but that was harder to offer when he was barely over the age of four. The parental bond had a constant thrum to it, and at times they were blended so much that he couldn’t tell which thoughts were his. It was stifling, like trying to breathe through a pillow.

Otabek would need help to block his thoughts. He probably didn’t want to share everything he thought. Yuri felt his heart skip a beat, lifting his head from the grass. Was it bad, that he wanted to hide his thoughts as well? His feelings from before they knew each other, disgusting vile thoughts that now settled as guilt in his stomach. It came and it went, that feeling.

“All done!” said Phichit, patting his shoulder. Yuri felt up the braid with his fingers. The smooth strands had been intricately woven, dipping and curving with no stray hair.

“Nice,” he said, and let the other fairy bind the ends of his hair together with a simple charm. A dark symbol floated from his wrist, jumpily bouncing to a knuckle before tumbling down the length of his finger.

“Just run your fingers through it to remove it,” he said, and stood. “Is Otabek going to be here?”

“I let him sleep in,” he’d be able to tell if Otabek was awake once they had the bond between them. “I think, I want to do it now.”

“Now?” he murmured, observing him carefully. “Alright,”

“Just, remove the blocker. I trust you not to fuck up. When it’s done,” he said, his heart beating fast in his throat. “I’ll go up to him, and show him. But- I don’t want him to see if anything goes wrong.”

“Are you sure-“

“Of course I’m sure, just-“ he held out his arms, up at the wrists. It would be a nice surprise for him, to wake up this.

Phichit hummed, and swept the hair out of his eyes. “Okay,” he said, sighing deeply. “I’m going to try now.” And the hands tightened on his wrists. Yuri looked up at the blue sky, tipping his head back. It was the perfect day for this. There was barely a cloud in the sky, and the sun left a metallic spot on his vision when he closed his eyes.

Once more, the familiar feeling of another presence beside his own. It took a moment for him to calm himself, to let the other in. His system had seen Phichit before, but without any bond between them it took a second for him to familiarize himself again.

He was really doing it! He was finally going to be able to bond with Otabek! The emotion welled up behind his eyes, not enough for tears, but enough that the other fairy notices. He weaves through memories, pushing past with delicate motions. Yuri trusts him not to investigate further. His mind feels along, brushing along the walls of his consciousness in that way that makes his skin crawl. **_Sorry,_** and the words feel strange, when they’re not his own.

Sparks of delight course through him. Excited fingers clutch at the memory, pressing lightly into it. His wrists burn, hiss in indignation. **_That’s it_** , they murmured, twisting the thought around. They crowd around the memory, it’s brief pulsing light sending pressure up his arms. The thumbs, they pressed hard, and those eyes, glaring through a haze of silver.

It’s cold, the intrusion of magic, like a knife through his ribs. It was never okay, it was nothing like now. Those blockers, they were ugly, a mangled blue stain on him like a brand. He wanted to cut the memory out, to squeeze it between his fingers until it broke. Phichit, or- at least he thinks it’s Phichit, tucked the memory in close, and approached the bond.

 ** _Careful_** , one of them hisses, while another one gives him a reassuring pat. **_I’ll cut it off now. Are you ready?_**

 ** _Yep,_** and the other one stifled a laugh. Carefully, he slipped the memory into his hands, cracking it open in search of something. He pulled it up, the exact sensation of the hands on his wrists, and wretched it from the memory.

And with nervous precision, he twisted his hands into the numb bond, and felt for the blocker. It was hard, as opposed to everything else here, like a large blue rock imbedded into his mind. Phichit lopped the memory around the blocker like rope, and pressed. There was a moment of pressure, and then release, the tension in his mind dissipating as though it were smoke.

 ** _It’s out!_** Phichit opened his eyes, and shook his shoulders. “I did it! Do you feel it?”

Frantically, he rubbed against his wrists, and felt unstoppable grin cross his features. He stood, new energy filling him, crying out quick thank you’s.

The bond, he felt it stretch and keen in his mind, and he wished only for a minute to explore it’s complexities, but it would feel wrong without Otabek. It leapt to life, precious and unharmed, perfectly intact. He could’ve cried from joy – and he did – wiping away the tears on his face. There was nothing that could explain that feeling, an almost paternal desire to protect it. He caressed the bond, cradled it close, but there was no response.

“Shit, Beka,” he murmured excitedly under his breath, and began to run.

 

*

 

Warm arms wrapped around his neck, and Otabek awoke. For some strange reason, he had expected it, and didn’t jump as he felt them tighten. “Otabek, gods – I missed you so much, you have no idea-“

His eyes widened, and he waited for his eyes adjust to the sharp light of the room. Unhindered excitement made it’s way to his belly, and he rubbed at his eyes, blinking at the fairy above him. Yuri was ecstatic, wings almost vibrating. He let out a laugh. “What’s gotten into you…?” he murmured.

“Beka!” Cried Yuri, pulling back to show him his wrists. Otabek squinted, rubbing his thumbs over his pulse. “Look! Phichit took them off.” He felt an intense twisting in his gut, a mix of something he can’t measure – he can’t tell what it is – and Yuri is still giving him such an odd look.

“Are we bonded?” the question is simple, and Yuri shook his head.

“You can’t tell. The bond is fine, but it’s not complete.” Otabek’s eyes sharpened, and he pulled Yuri’s hand up to his neck.

“Do it,” he said, and doesn’t need Yuri to ask him if it’s okay. He’d never been as open as he had been there, and Yuri could’ve felt the sincerity even if the bond hadn’t existed. He was ready, ready to feel, ready to know.

“I really do love you,” said Yuri, a flush crawling up his ears giving away his nervousness.

“I do too. I keep thinking,” and the words were whispered in a way that made them feel treasurable and delicate. “I keep thinking I can’t love you any more than I already do, but then I wake up to this-“ Beka’s eyes glint, and he held Yuri’s forearms. “-And I can’t help it.”

“Sentimental bastard,” Yuri whispered, fingers clammily digging into Otabek’s shoulder.

“Are you going to get on with it then?”

Yuri nodded, sniffling. He doesn’t break eye contact as he guided Yuri’s hand back to his neck, gently but firmly. _For you, I’d do anything_ , and he couldn’t tell if Yuri had heard or felt his sentiment. He shivered, the foreign sensation of Yuri’s consciousness beginning to saturate his mind. The grip on Yuri’s wrist tightened, and a soothing hand held his cheek as they went under.

 

*

 

_Yuri is younger, and he’s running. Sheer panic fills him, and he’s running for his life as the village blooms up into the air as smoke. His mother grasps him around the waist and pulls hard, shouting. They barely make it out, and the smoke is burning his lungs, and he’s just so tired, but mother is shouting at him to keep running. So he does, sooty tears clogging his eyes and nose, but he’s just so tired and-_

_A sword cuts him in half, and he can’t believe he’s made this much of a mistake. The elf before him notices the change of mood, and scrambles up with his sword, ready to strike again. Red, anger, hate, it clouds his vision. Otabek can feel the vomit in his throat as he swings, and he can’t feel which stings more, his hands, eyes, or throat? The pain isn’t enough-_

_Grandpa goes stiff. It’s the cold, he thinks, knocking a tear back from his face. Grandpa is dead, he knows this, but he won’t yet feel grief. It hasn’t hit him yet, even as he digs in the cold snow it hasn’t hit him. He doesn’t allow himself to grieve until it’s done. He lifts Grandpa, gently sinking him down into the ground. It doesn’t feel like Grandpa. Grandpa was alive, happy. This couldn’t be Grandpa – but it was- and the dreaded tears start to fall again – just like they did for mother –_

_A part of him is disappointed when he realizes there are no more fairies left, because he’s disappointed he was never able to kill one of his own-_

_The man is heavy, and with the help of his horse he just manages to bring him into the house. He groans, blood dripping down the sides of the horse. With a quick spell, the horse listens, and follows him home. Why is he saving this man? A human, a god damn human! He had just killed a person – so why the fuck was he helping? He didn’t know how to heal this man. Yuri imagined, for a second, throwing him down and taking the horse. His shallow breathing gave him a chill. Yuri felt along his throat for a heart beat, and -_

_Even in death, he seeming saw. Flickers of light went by his head like shooting stars, too bright to look at directly. He was floating, the world around him gone, the vastness and emptiness of the dark space swallowing him. Was this the afterlife? It couldn’t be. He was a hero. He couldn’t be floating around in this chamber forever. The gods had promised him riches beyond his wildest dreams. In a split second, the space began to spin. Faster and faster, rushing around him in a swirl. I want to leave, he thought. Otabek closed his eyes. His skin begin to crack and pull apart like dry mud. Screaming, he rubbed at his skin, holding it to stop all of him from falling apart-_

_Without thinking, Yuri gathered himself up. With a splutter, a dribble of blood came over his chin. Yuri growled, wrenching up a root, and for a wild moment wonders what on earth he’s doing. He glares at the dying man, and starts to bind the vine into his flesh, twisting and twisting until the blood runs dry-_

_And he realizes-_

_That maybe in the end-_

_It’ll all be okay-_

_That in spite of this world, they can make it, and live together. The fairy doesn’t hate him. Whatever part of him that had held that previous prejudice had died off that night. He can’t stop looking at him. There is something brilliant about the man with blond hair and starlight skin that feels endlessly fascinating-_

_And he resists against the feeling. He knows it, he just knows that the human will not reciprocate his feelings. He shouldn’t feel companionship for this human, much less this attraction. It makes him feel dirty, as he imagines rutting over him-_

**_I knew you were into me before-_ **

**_Shut up-_ **

_He’s jerking off into the bush-_

**_Fucking hell Beka-_ **

_And he holds him close, afraid of losing him. Despite his attraction, he will protect Yuri. Having seen how hard he had fought, and how much he has had to fight through, he can’t help it. Someone understands him, and is willing to hold him, and that’s all that matters. Right?_

_So he knew, when he leaned up to kiss him, that it would all work out. Otabek wouldn’t walk away, even if he didn’t feel the same way. Yuri would’ve cracked eventually. A grin curls up his face, and he imagines what Grandpa would say-_

_He is lost without the other. They both are. Protectors of each other, lovers, friends, so much more. He wishes they had a word, bondmate – no, husband? Wait, wait-!_

_They pause, afraid of having crossed a line. Beka shakes his head, and repeats the word._

**_Husband sounds pretty alright._ **

_Doesn’t it? Is it okay? The bond doesn’t know, it’s nervous and-_

**_Yes, yes, it’s more than okay –_ **

****

Yuri didn’t realize he had been shaking violently until a hand came up to the nape of his neck. He slipped back, allowing his mind to spill back, and dimly noticed the two hands on his face, that Otabek’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, and that they were both gasping for breath. Yuri only has time to exhale one when Otabek moved forward and kissed him.

Otabek, for all his decisiveness, freezes for a split second, eyes flying open and so, so cautious. He’s certain that Yuri won’t want to jerk away, because the bond stretches in the space between them, heavy with emotion.

 _I’m right here,_ he said, and he hugs him with all his might.

They stay like that, until Yuri chances a playful nibble at his ear. Otabek clears his throat, and Yuri does it again, pulling a sharp noise from his throat. Arousal curled in his stomach, and he wanted Yuri then and there, the need to learn him, every freckle and curve of his body. He made quick use of his clothing, tossing it off the bed as the fairy wriggled.

His eyes were dark, mirth clouding over the beautiful green of his eyes. He couldn’t wait to see that mouth, slick red and swollen from kissing, and Yuri growled, pressing against him once more, intent on memorizing the shape of his lips. Memorizing the way they part when he made a chocked, desperate sound.

They fall apart in seconds from the relief and pent-up wanting. Yuri allows his barriers to slip, to relax. The intrusion isn’t unpleasant, and Otabek gladly lets him in.

Otabek admired his whole being, warm eyes drifting from his pale freckled skin to his pink nipples. “I wonder…” he murmured, kissing his lips in quiet satisfaction before reaching over to caress a wing. He massaged a wing tip between his fingers, turning him around to mouth at the back of his neck. Yuri let out a choking gasp, Otabek jolting as an echo of the sensation coiled in his spine. Delicious pleasure coursed through him, and he had to tip his head back for a moment to process.

“Gods, that’s good,” Yuri groaned, tightening his finger together.

“I didn’t know it felt _that_ good,” Yuri wriggled, sweating. With added determination, he stroked at his wing, dropping his hand to give attention to the other one. The aftershocks, they went straight to his cock. Yuri cursed, and Otabek couldn’t tell whether it was through the bond that he had heard it or not. Could he cum from just this? Without even being touched?

Yuri gave him a sharp look, embarrassment crossing his face for a moment. He had _liked_ the thought of that. He grips at his knees, and his thoughts are all a scramble of _god damn you, I swear you’re going to kill me,_ and, _wantpleasecomeonbastard- fucking hell Beka!_

“Don’t tease me – please don’t be cruel!”

“Okay,” he said, and lovingly kissed him. **_I’d never be cruel_**. Yuri’s eyes sparkled, and kissed at his neck, down further, and Yuri can do all but blink as Otabek took him into his mouth. **_I’ll give you everything._**

“Holy shit-“ he choked, struck by the immediate warmth of his mouth. Otabek smiled around his cock, and he fought the arousal that blazed in his stomach. His hips snap, jerking. Colors sprang across his vision, and Otabek barely held him down. He bobs, gripping his hips to prevent him from bucking.

 _I’m not going to last-_ he gasped, fingers slick against Beka’s shoulders. _Fuck, Beka, I’m never going to last if you keep up –_ Otabek looked up at him, eyes almost black with haze. He made a primal, dark sound that he’d never heard from himself, but keeps going, carefully minding his teeth. He could feel it, how good it felt. He could feel it pulsing though him, an echo of lips around his cock. Yuri tightened, thighs almost vibrating with the effort of holding back.

 _Yes,yes,_ he encouraged, stroking the tender skin of his thigh. _Don’t hold back, please don’t hold back_ , and Yuri whines, shivering. His eyes nearly roll back from the sheer pleasure of it, and he shuts his eyes.

“Wait, wait, I want to-“ the rest of his words tangle and fall, the air being punched from his lungs. The bond flairs, and when they connect it’s with a fierce rush of affection and emotion that meet halfway. Images of their times together, fighting, fucking, and being in the presence of each other, extremes crossing in a blend of light.

Otabek seems immeasurably proud of himself as he wiped cum from his mouth. _Asshole, why does this always happen?_

“What?” Yuri growls, and wrapped a hand around his dick. He laughed, low and dirty as they kiss, sparks of affection twisting into arousal.

“Can we try that,” he murmured, fingers digging into Otabek’s hips. “Together? I want to cum with you.” Otabek nodded, pulling him close, opening up for him, and allowing their minds to dip. He rolled his hips, a whine high in his throat as he promises that he’ll make it happen.

“I promise, tomorrow.” He nodded, tugging the blanket around them. Yuri felt cold. The prickle of his skin isn’t his own, and he liked that now he could notice these little things that would bother Yuri.

“Tomorrow?” he jerked back, and laughed. “We have the whole day!”

“Today,” he agreed, determinedly pulling him close. “Today then. I’ll make you cum as many times as you want.”

Yuri inhaled softly, and ducked back under the covers. “Okay,” he murmured, a little airy.

“I think we’ll need something though,” he said, waiting, and watching the flush crawl up his pale skin. “There must be oil in the kitchen. I’ll get dressed, later- and we can have- ah – sex…?” Otabek gulped down a breath, watching Yuri carefully.

Yuri bursts out laughing, just as embarrassed but not nearly as inarticulate. “Okay,” he said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Sure. But right now,” he pat the matress beside him, and they curled up in the afterglow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love you guys for keeping up with this story, I seriously appreciate every comment I get, so thank you all <3
> 
> I'm guessing this story should have about 5-8 chapters left in it. After that, I'll have a Victuuri side story. If there is anything else you'd like to see from this universe, please tell me, I promise I won't bite XD. I've really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I'll see you all next week! 
> 
> My tumblr is: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/stone-heart-of-gold


	29. I am but waiting for you. For an interval. Somewhere. Very near. Just around the corner. All is well.

Much to Yuri’s dismay, they didn’t end up having sex that evening. With aching limbs, and the bond strung between them, it wasn’t long before they were both curled up in bed, exhausted from the sudden closeness.

Otabek couldn’t tell when he had woken up, but found himself gently linking their hands together, touching palm to palm. His chest was brimming with warmth, endless warmth that echoed back and forth, fading out like waves of sound.

It was piercing, how close they were, but on the right side of intense. He could feel everything, see through Yuri’s eyes even if he focused enough. The moments between waking and sleeping were fragile, dipping as easily and smoothly into Yuri’s mind as it was dipping into water. There was on resistance, only smooth green tones and the swaying of their souls.

Yuri was able to build his shields back up, but they were sensitive, and subject to move at any shift in mood. He assured that this was only temporary, but Otabek didn’t mind. It wasn’t as if every thought was sent through, and he could project certain ones to make them more obvious. If he didn’t want Yuri to know something, Yuri wouldn’t pry, attentively shuffling past the thought with little worry.

When there was a chance, and Otabek could feel the bond was shielded, he went down to the kitchen. The maids payed him little attention, and he slipped a bottle of oil under his arm. They didn’t comment, but he imagined there might be rumors.

Later that night, the perfect opportunity struck them.

Yuri gave him a look, sultry eyes aimed straight at him. “Did you forget your promise to me?”

His mouth felt dry, words dying in his throat. “No,” he mumbled, as Yuri’s hands run dangerously down his shirt. It’s scary how confident he was, unafraid to show his wondering gaze, thumbs pausing for a moment at his nipples, before going further down. It was downright painful not to touch him, but something told him that Yuri wants control. “I didn’t forget,”

“You’ll make me cum as many times as I want,” Yuri’s hands focused their attention at his hips, rubbing his hip bones. “That’s what you said,”

He swallowed, ducking his head underneath his arm. “I did say that,” he said, voice gritty.

“Well then,” Yuri pulled off his shirt, revealing skin as bright as starlight. “I don’t think you’re the sort of person to break promises.”

Otabek nodded courtly. Damn right he wasn’t the sort – and he’d prove it. He cupped Yuri’s chin, kissing him, tasting the warmth of his mouth. He was soft and sweet, body giving way to the heat between them.

“Mmm, wait,” he said, pulling back. “I have something,”

Before Yuri can stop himself, he flickered through Otabek’s memories, gaining wisps of thoughts. “Gods-“

“Here,” he said, shaking the bottle of oil. “Lie back. I’ll take care of you.” Yuri’s cheeks flush, eyes bright with want.

“Wait…” Yuri twisted his head, trying to see what he was about to do. A soothing hand ran down his sides, trying to calm him. His heart was beating hard, pounding in his ears, and Otabek knew it wasn’t his own.

With steeled resolve, he tasted the edge of Yuri’s wing with his tongue. There was a shriek from below him, the fairy grinning and wriggling. A sharp spark, bright and green went through his spine. “Shit Beka, sensitive!” The taste was odd, but not unpleasant. There was a certain amount of dryness to it, but the wing itself was waterproof. It was fascinating, how Yuri panted under each stroke, wings quivering madly. He gave small licks, reaching his spine and back down to the base. After a seconds’ worth of thought, he gave the other wing the same treatment, dressing it down in a flurry of kisses.

“They are beautiful,” he murmured, admiring how shiny they were in the candlelight. They felt almost like stained glass, pale green windows that seemed to sparkle and wink with each flutter of wings. The creasing had disappeared, allowing for him to stretch out his wings to the fullest.

“This is the best they’ve looked in years.”

“Can you cum?” he said, prompting a sharp inhale. “From just me touching them? Is it easy for you to do so?”

“Fuck,” he whispered, burying his head in his arms.

The wound on his shoulder, shit, the memories from that night still made his sleep restless. The arrow had pierced right through, and a mangled splash of red sat again his pale skin. The skin had knotted, curdled, uneven bumps and dips forever marking him.  He remembered the scream, felt his heart shatter as it dawned on him that he couldn’t protect Yura from anything, that he had been useless and tied up.

How he had bled – how he had felt like he was about to die, it was all hellish and miserable. He had felt Yuri’s pain for a second, but that left him with nightmares.

Those memories for not for now.

“Strong,” he murmured, tentatively touching his scar. Yuri watched him carefully, taking him in. A twinge went through him, spreading into something else. Something greater, the weight of his love pressing close.

They had gone through the world to finally be together. It didn’t matter what happened tomorrow, or what happened two weeks from now. Even if it was only for a while, this love was worth it.

“This is nice,” said Yuri, voice burning with an edge. “But I’m dying here.”

“Shh,” he whispered, nipping at Yuri’s ear, prompting a shiver. “Turn over then. I’ll prepare you.”

“Did you just _assume_ I was the one that was going to get fucked?” he said, scoffing, but the bond twisted – teasing.

“I thought you might be interested.” Yuri was obviously interested.

“And not you? Not to point it out, but you’re a lot thicker than me. It would be easier for me to- you know what I mean.”

“If that’s what you want.” Yuri raised his eyebrows, staring with a short frown on his face. In return, Otabek raised his eyebrows too, until Yuri cracked a smile.

“Would you be interested? Not now, but later?”                         

He took a moment to imagine it. Yuri’s fingers would be slim, but long, able to reach deeply in him to press that one spot. His figure, hips between his legs, Yuri’s cock digging into him, fierce and hot. Yuri bit his lip, grinning.

“Alright. Later though, I’ve been waiting too long for this.”

Otabek leaned over the bed, dipping his fingers again into the bowl. He covered them well, saturating his fingers. The candle light made his fingers glow in bright amber shades. Yuri sighed, cock heavy between his legs as he rolled onto his back, spreading his thighs, and he almost muttered a quick prayer for strength right then and there.

Otabek bit his lip, steadying his hand. He was going to be gentle. He could be gentle. Yuri was trusting him, leaving himself open and vulnerable like this, for him! He could hardly believe it, the unhindered expression on his face.

Never would he misuse this trust he had been given. It was an honor, he thought, as his fingers twitched at Yuri’s thigh. Shit – but what if he fucked up?

_Please-please- get your damn fingers in me already._

_Shhh_ , he hid his smile, and stroked the soft skin between his legs. Yuri shuddered, cock swollen and red – but he didn’t move to touch. _I want to savor this._

Yuri looked like he was about to explode, feral fingers clenching at his sides. Then, with a heaving sigh, he gave Otabek an exasperated look, and relaxed.

“You totally get off on making me wait.”

“Dramatic.” He mumbled, kissing his thigh. A part of him wanted this moment to last, his body splayed out across the bed. His skin, bright and clean. He had allowed his hair to dry in the sun, and gentle golden waves covered the pillows. The scent of him made Otabek’s mouth water, wings giving off tones of honey and pear. There wasn’t an inch of him that he couldn’t love, all his rough corners and dirty edges. Yuri’s wicked mouth, and his beautiful smile.

His finger poped in, and he searched Yuri’s face for any sign of discomfort. “Oh no, the pain, how can you Beka, why.” He said in a dry voice, prompting a flush.

“Seriously?”

“I’ll tell you if it hurts, dumbass.”

He gathered himself, and pushed forwards with two fingers this time. Yuri made a soft sound, blinking quickly. There was little resistance; he gave way for Otabek, brightening eyes with each motion.

With his ministrations, Yuri’s cock fills out, jerking when he hits that sweet spot. Soon, he’s pulling at Otabek’s hands, gesturing for him to move closer. Everything is blending together, it’s too soon, too soon, he couldn’t possibly be spreading his legs for Otabek. In the grip of terror, he clutched at Yuri’s thighs, trembling.

Shit, he could barely move? Why couldn’t he move? He wanted to be inside, wanted to feel what it was like to be together in that way, but he was stuck, frozen by his beating heart. His nerves had paralyzed him, and he couldn’t even open his mouth to say anything. Pure terror had struck him, images of amber eyes and caramel tears streaking across his vision.

Yuri waited, then brought a hand to his cheek. For a moment he wished to wrench away, so that Yuri wouldn’t see the look on his face. Had he fucked up? Was Yuri mad? Disappointed that he could barely get the nerve to fuck him like he wanted?

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” He said, laughing gently. “You’re alright, you’re okay. It’s just nerves. I get it.” He tenderly kissed his lips, rubbing at his collarbone. “It’s okay to be nervous!”

“You’re nervous too.” He commented, feeling another heart race along with his somewhere in his chest. Yuri nodded. Gently, he began to push back against Otabek’s shoulder, hard until he was on his back. Knees came to rest at either side, cock against his stomach.

“We can do it this way.” Yuri murmured, flushing. “Okay?”

“Are you sure you-“ He said, protesting until Yuri wrapped a hand around his cock, guiding him towards his entrance. With a dangerous look, he shut his mouth, and watched the head sink in. Yuri pressed down, until there was enough pressure for the head to slide in. He was listening to Yuri intently for any words of protest, and there was more pain in the pleasure, he could tell, but no protest, only a strangled, groaning pronouncement.

“Shit!” He cried, walls fluttering violently at the sudden intrusion. His hands came up, grasping desperately at his shoulders. Stomach tensed, the tight heat of Yuri around his cock was like nothing he’d ever felt. Yuri’s nose wrinkled, eyes squeezing shut. He could only look as the fairy blinked his eyes, the watery line of his mouth transforming into a grin. Every pulse of him had Otabek reeling, eyes wide blown, and he found himself sporting a small quirk in his lips.

“Hurts?” He asked, brushing back a strand of golden hair. Yuri shook his head, looking more sure of it by the second.

“Not too much.” Whispered Yuri, sinking down ever so slightly.

“Yuri,” he gasped, blinking back tears.

“Gods, are you crying?” cried Yuri, laughing, but his eyes were shiny. Their hands found each other, fingers entwining. “I love you, Beka. You feel so good…”

He pulled them tightly together with his legs, slick erection pressed against Otabek’s stomach. Yuri’s hole had stretched, and slid with one smooth push. They nudged their foreheads, lips greeting in the middle. He sucked in a breath between his teeth, hole still fluttering under the strange sensation. “Ahh, I’m so full,” he whispered, and Otabek’s thighs trembled wildly.

Otabek was struggling to hold back. He needed to stay completely still, go at Yuri’s pace. “Come on, don’t hold back,” he demanded, pouting. _It doesn’t hurt._

Squeezing his hands, he bucked up, sparks flashing across the space between them. Yuri’s hands gripped him, steadying himself. The grin on his face only grew, bright and full of unshed tears. “Well, keep going!” he cried, laughing. His giggles were cut off with a upwards thrust, and he held on for dear life.

Once he began, he couldn’t stop himself, chasing down the pleasure. Yuri’s knees buckled, the thick fullness made it difficult to focus on anything but the feeling of Otabek sliding in and out. He panted, pulling their lips together. Otabek hissed into his mouth, warm hand sneaking between. He couldn’t last much longer; he wanted Yuri to crash along with him.

He shuddered around him, coming with a cut off cry. Otabek rolled his hips, clutching Yuri while he shook and released over his stomach. He worked him through it, mouthing panted kissed over his neck as he pounded the last of his pleasure into him. Fingernails on his shoulders left scalding marks on his shoulders.

His legs trembled, and with a sigh his softening cock slid out.

_That’s what it’s all about, huh? Sex._

_Was it good?_ Yuri’s head on his chest twisted, chin on his collar. He ran a hand through Otabek’s sweat-soaked locks, and smiled.

_Very. I don’t know how I’m ever going to do anything else but this. Can we just have sex forever?_

Otabek felt his eyes crinkle, and he didn’t care about the cum between them as he wrapped Yuri close, breathing in his scent, and could hardly believe that this man loved him.

 _Yes_ , he promised, and repeated it again and again, despite it being a lie. _Yes, yes, forever then._

 

*

 

The spring passed, and turned to summer.

When the summer months hit, their training only got more intense. The rest of the army filtered into the city, coming back to regroup. New recruits from all over the continent came to test themselves, and Otabek would come back to the castle with bruises and welts. His body was quick to recover, muscles tightening and hardening in the summer sun.

Yuri was making good use of his magic, and buried himself in his studies, reading book after book. The king had given him complete access to the library, and he often found Yuri curled up in some corner, halfway through a thick book. He was determined to catch up on knowledge, and had a strong interest in human customs.

“I didn’t know your culture was so invested virgins.” He said once, looking up from the floor. He would move as he read, shifting around the room, moving from the chair to the floor as he lost himself in whatever history book he had decided to pick up that day.

“Virgins…?”

“Yeah,” said Yuri. “The whole thing with white dresses symbolizing purity and all that? And hanging up the bedsheets to show that she was a virgin-“

“Ah.” Otabek said. He hadn’t really thought about that before. “I guess I don’t know.”

“Seems stupid. Why the hell does it even matter? You’re marrying that person.”

“Were you bothered at all when I told you about that woman?” The fairy tensed for a moment.

“I was jealous. Obviously.” He said quietly. “But it’s not like you were – tainted – or something. You’re just you. I don’t think it was a bad thing, it was sex, but that- ahhh I don’t know how to put it!” He grumbled, glaring into his hands. The bond tightened, squeezing so he couldn’t get a proper reading. “Being jealous is – it’s about me? Do you get what I mean? It doesn’t affect you…”

Yuri could barely look at him, brimming with embarrassment. His wings fluttered, buzzing with the weight of his words.

“What?” snapped Yuri. “This isn’t cute, stop smiling.”

“I’m not smiling.”

“You’re full of shit!” He said, bursting with laughter. The redness of his cheeks, faintly dusted with summer freckles made it impossible to do anything else but kiss his embarrassment away.

“You’re very cute,” Murmured Otabek, watching those bright green eyes light up.

“Stop!” Yuri giggled, kicking at him half-heartedly. “Damn sap, get off of me.”

“Never,” he squeezed Yuri, the scent of peppermint tickling his nose. “You’re mine now.” Between the words, he planted kisses along his neck. Yuri trembled, grinning, and with a burn of contentment through the bond, he knew Yuri thought the same.

 

*

 

With a month of training, he was finally able to fight. His body had been restored to its previous condition. Yuri loved the lines of muscles, tracing them out with soft caresses and occasionally the wet swipe of tongue

Legendary, they’d call him. Yakov in particular seemed quite proud, though he was loath to show it. Mila had left, and had taken up a job in the sect as a bodyguard for the priestess.

“Sara is real funny,” she said, giggling over her beer. “You wouldn’t expect that of a priestess, but she’s real fucking funny.” Her eyes softened, a sly smile slowly rising to her lips. “You know, the priestess can’t marry-“ she waited, pausing to observe his reaction.

He watched her, and smiled. “A priestess?”

“You can’t judge.”

“True.”

“Does anyone else know?”

Otabek shrugged. “The King might know,”

“Not like he’d say anything,” she chuffed, eyes glazing over the rest of the bar. “Hell, Yakov’s shut down anyone that mentioned your little friend.” She gave him a sparkling smile, smeared with booze. “That didn’t stop the rumors, but they would never know where he is anyway. The King wouldn’t want his secret to get out.”

He nodded. Even talking about him like this felt too dangerous. He didn’t want to talk about this; you never knew who was listening in. The bar was higher class, warm wood tables with lit candles, and a cleanly dress barmaid to top it off, but that didn’t mean someone couldn’t be lurking away.

“What are you going to do about the campaign?”

“I don’t know.” He murmured. Otabek knew he couldn’t bring Yuri along. Even if they were training, it would be dangerous. How was he supposed to hide himself for a near year? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Yuri was injured. Yuri, of course, had been insisting that he would come along. They had both killed that man, after all.

The bond shivered, uncertain with the memory. It floated, bubbling to the surface. There was no response. Perhaps Yuri was blocking him at the moment.

“You know what?” she said, immediately slamming down her glass and leaning over him. He was pulled back into the room, felt the urge to pull back from her. She grinned, wide and bear-like, like she wanted to bite. “I think marriage has softened you!”

“What.” Dully looking up at her, he noticed the warmth in her teeth, and the fire in her glare. Was this supposed to be teasing?

“Come on, man!” Mila growled, poking at his shoulder with an irritated finger. “You used to get so mad at me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Liar!” Chortling, she shifted even closer, almost nose to nose. “You were always angry back then. But now look at you! Hell – you’re glowing.”

“He… he makes me happy.” His ears had begun to redden. She obviously found this entertaining, and he couldn’t help admitting that he didn’t mind it. It was true, he was happier than he had been in his life. If anything, Yuri was the glowing one. The bond glimmered, trembling. A bright gold patch in the back of his mind. Yuri had been listening in, only for a moment, but he had heard enough.

“See, softy,” but now, the words were spoken with kindness. Behind all that bravado and wit was a woman he’d trust with his life.

 

*

 

“I’m going in two weeks,” he said, the words finally bumbling out of him.

There would never be a right time to say it. He wanted to build up to it, ease into it. Explain it when they were both calm and collected. He would’ve sat down with Yuri, and explained properly what he meant, but as soon as the thought hit him it had tumbled from his lips.

“Going?” mumbled Yuri, pausing. “Shit.” He said again, draining against the wall. Sparks of protest, heady and bright, made him blink.

“That’s not enough time for me to finish studying.” Yuri said, quietly staring up at him.

“You can’t come with me.” Yuri wasn’t surprised by his answer, but kept pushing.

“Yes I can-“

“No, Yura it’s dangerous. Do you know how exposed you’ll be?” There was nothing he wanted more than to be with him, but-

“More exposed than here?” Yuri shot at him, risky green eyes flickering.

“Yes.” He cursed, a rumble of anger underneath his skin. It was rupturing, gurgling up from within, and despite Otabek’s attempt to shield himself from it he couldn’t stop the rage from.

“Don’t you want me there?”

“Yuri, I want to be with you, but we can’t do that, okay?” he stressed the words, trying to stop the agitation from straining him. Yuri looked like he was about to burst into flame, fingers catching at the hem of his shirt.

For a moment, for a split second, he could imagine it – the fingertips dipped in black, green crackling manically at his palms. His heart twisted at the memory of the fairy pushing him out that door, sobbing. It couldn’t let that happen again. Yuri felt strongly, the immense weight of his emotions could tug him into a fit. There were moments of time, not too long ago, where the same Yuri he loved with all his might was the one that was tempted to kill him. He loathed that, he hated that version on him.

He looked at Yuri, staring at the tense line of his shoulders. There was only one way to fix this, one way that he knew. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was the only thing he had left when reason wouldn’t work with the man. Yuri flared, bitten lips quivering. “What-“

Otabek pulled him close, tucking him into his chest. Yuri snarled, the temptation to hit him fighting with the need to weep. He nosed his shoulder, fitting their bodies together. Yuri blubbered, grief bubbling over, and he began to bawl, tightening his arms around Beka. A hand wriggled up to his neck, pressing into his mind gently, asking for permission.

“Yes,” he burrowed into Yuri’s shoulder, and fell through until he didn’t know where they ended or begun.

_I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you._

_You can be angry._

_No,_ he said, with a burst of green. The faint outline of him was stark, thin beams of gold and green set him in halo. Otabek couldn’t see their mental landscape, not properly anyway. Yuri traced along the memories that bound them together, bringing his hand against smooth surfaces that were soft against his fingertips.

_I can’t be angry at you for leaving. It’s stupid. I’m stupid._

With loving fierceness, he gripped him close, on the edge of hurt. _No more,_ his hand curled against his jaw, tugging him into a kiss. _That’s enough._

“Two weeks,” Yuri was paling, blood draining. “Gods, that’s not a lot of time.”

“It’s not.” He brushed back Yuri’s hair, spending a moment to admire him, to savor the callused fingers against his jaw. Were those Yuri’s hands? They couldn’t be, Yuri’s arms were wrapped around his body. Their souls had tangled, twisted, and how were they supposed to live without this feeling?

“We will make the best of it.” Said Otabek, and Yuri nodded. “What other choice do we have?”

 

*

 

It takes a lot, to learn to say goodbye. All the formalities Otabek had learned, traditional greetings and meaningless gestures didn’t help him.

They say goodbye within the castle walls, trading kisses until their lips burned. It tasted of salt and honey, a blend that made Otabek’s heart ache. The effort it took to move, to turn away from Yuri, knowing the amount of time they’d be apart – he torn his feet away, gritting back tears.

Yuri didn’t like thinking about it, the loss he felt afterwards. _Can you still hear me_ , he whispered, digging deep within him when there was no response. He watched the carriages drift away, over a hill into the bright morning sun. His heart sank, the bond stretching like muscle across the distance. He tapped against the castle window, blotting out the sun with his thumb.

There was no need to cry. He could cope with the distance, he knew he could. Yuri felt the echos, a steady beat of life as Otabek went further. Tears slid over his face, and he wiped at them, annoyed.

That night, he slept fitfully, only able to rest cradled up against the bond. He couldn’t tell if was healthy to burrow himself away in his mind, closing his eyes against the pulse in his head. Phichit tugged him out in the morning, insisting that they went down for breakfast.

After two – then three weeks, he had had enough of the hollowness in his chest. He was restless, unable to relax.

So, Phichit had a suggestion. Leave the castle, explore new places. Retrieve artifacts from still standing fairy villages. “I was thinking of doing this for a while, to be completely honest!” he said, stuffing his face with another pastry. “There are tons of abandoned settlements all over the continent, and they are pretty secluded. I’ve never had the courage to go out on my own, and Jean wouldn’t like it. But with you…” he winked, a slow smile growing. “Think about it.”

A furious sense of hope came across him, undeniable in its intensity.

“Yes,” he said, a great grin overcoming him. “I’ll do it.” That night, he wrote a letter to Otabek. It wouldn’t reach him for months – he wouldn’t receive a reply anytime soon, so he made sure to include everything. The trip would be long, and by the time Otabek would be back, he would meet him again by the cabin in the woods. Where they were supposed to be.

Now, he stepped out of the carriage, sweaty and hot in the summer sun. The weeks hadn’t been kind, and eating camp food – now that he was used to the luxurious food of the castle – was not exactly appealing. It was preferable, however, to hiding away behind stone walls and guards.

They had been on the road, Phichit leading the way like a kind of overly excitable general. After a miserable twenty five days with the man in the small space of the carriage, Yuri was glad to be outside in the fresh mountain air.

“There aren’t any humans in this area for ages!” he cried, spinning in the grass. His small wings shivered with joy, and Yuri found it didn’t disgust him anymore. He pulled off his cloak, feeling his wings soak in the heat.

Phichit planted a spell on their bags, lifting them into the air. He bent for a moment under the phantom weight, before giving half to him.

“Ready to go then?” Phichit smiled, gesturing to the wide open space of the world, mountains cut in stark lines against the bright sky, and feathery grass as far as his eye could see.

“Yes.” He nodded, and stepped forward into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write first times, forgive me.
> 
> I'm nearing the end of this fic, and I'm so happy you all stuck around. Only 2-3 chapters left (Viktuuri and Salami included don't panic), and it's definitely going to hit me hard when I finish this. I'd really like to hear if any of you have any questions or suggestions for this fic. I will be writing a few short stories with this au, and if there is anything you'd like me to explore then I'd love to hear it.
> 
> Until next chapter!


	30. "The world's in a bad way, my man, And bound to be worse before it mends; Better lie up in the mountain here. Four or five centuries, while the stars go over the lonely ocean,"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9 months later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm not dead, just very tired!
> 
> Only two more chapters to go after this! Seriously, thank you for reading up until this chapter. I know I've been a little reliable with the times I upload these, but I hope you will enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it!
> 
> Thanks!

Spring

**_9 months later_ **

****

It was strange being back home after it all.

How long had he lived on his own? He could hardly remember when he had become comfortable living by himself. Of course, the loneliness was a constant, but it was better than the alternative.

It was the smell of the house, wasn’t it? The walls, sun soaked, let out the scent of oaky wood. Everything smelled of it. Yuri felt his heart skip a beat as he stepped inside.

The floors were blanketed in a thin layer of dust, counter tops once strewn with potions and various lotions now empty. The windows seemed stunted, a large crack across the glass, either from the weather or an optimistic bird, made the place feel a little smaller than it had been before. When he stepped onto a stair, it groaned in protest.

Rain had seeped in. The spells that kept this place hidden and secure had worn off once he had gone. He tried to muster up the will to glare at the step, but fell flat.

Nine months. Nine months since he had stepped into his house. Nine months since they had been caught. How different the place seemed now without Otabek sharing in his space...

He brushed off the table, lifting his bags with a tilt of his hand. They jumped at the command, gliding up and landing with a soft thud.

It had only been a few weeks since the snow had disappeared. Phichit hadn’t dealt with the effects of the winter the same way he had. Without the sun over his wings, he had found it difficult to keep his eyes open. All he wanted to do was sleep, only occasionally opening his eyes. In the depths of winter, Phichit pushed him harder than ever. A permanent pain in the right side of his head had settled in, and he had become very irritable.

In the shortest day of the year, he couldn’t keep it up any longer. For a solid three days he slept in their tent, unable to be woken. The other fairy had never seen this before, and had, naturally, panicked.

Now that the sun had come out, he could practically feel the fibers in his wings stretching out, flaring in the new burst of energy. He released in the feeling, his brittleness softening. He felt stronger, he had more control over his thoughts.

He sighed, tracing a mental finger across the bright spot in the back of his mind. Otabek was far; he wouldn’t have felt the longing in his heart, the ache in his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed further, watching the thin wires of gold stretch out. Yuri couldn’t see the span of it, only able to watch as it twisted further into the space between them.

The days they had left until he returned were almost over. Three months. He had practically etched the numbers in his skull. When he tried to rest his eyes, he felt the numbers weighing down on him, a foot pressing on his lungs, his chest.

Not being able to talk to him, he couldn’t even begin to explain how much everything boiled up inside. Phichit wasn’t the same. No one else would hold him as he was; not broken or delicate, nor strong. Just to be held in his arms, hell, Yuri would’ve killed.

Had killed.

Right.

Phichit squeezed him tightly, wishing him well. His eyes had burned, and he swallowed. Yuri promised that he’d see the other man again, someday. They would keep in contact, send letters. Phichit would keep studying, experimenting, searching for other fae.

“Maybe there’s a chance.” He said quietly. “Maybe we could come back from this. I thought I was the only one left, but then I found you.” His eyes were gleaming, voice bright. “We don’t have to die off.”

He had thought about that a lot.

Dying off. Being the last one of his kind. It bothered him, made his skin crawl. Yuri didn’t want to think about it, but spending the last nine months with another fairy had made him question his position.

If there were a chance, would he take it? Was it worth it, creating more of him when their children would be unable to continue their line? The lack of variation wouldn’t be healthy in the long term. Phichit had taken studies from isolated villages, seen the results after generations upon generations. If anything, all they would be doing is placing the burden on their children.

In a sense, it was selfish. No longer would they have to live with the thought that they were the last of their kind. That obligation would be passed down, and if there were no other fae found, then that would be it. The last ones left.

Did he have a duty to try? Of course he did, he had to try. The thought of being the last one left terrified him beyond anything. If another fae was found, and she was partial to the idea, then he would have to try. For the sake of everyone who had died to keep him alive.

His mother would’ve wanted it. He was sure.

It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t have to make a decision unless another fairy was found. The chances were low as it was. No point in worrying.

As the morning drew in, Phichit walked away, relics and maps and all. Yuri vowed, swallowing back the tears, that he would write to the man as soon as he could. In a matter of minutes, he was gone, months of times spent together. Suddenly ripped away from the company of others.

Those abandoned villages, all the empty houses- he had to shrink down to explore them all. The trees would grow into giants above them, and they’d begin their search. They were as strong as they were small, dense muscles carrying as much as they could when they were bigger. Once Phichit thought that they had collected an adequate amount of data, they would return to wherever they were sleeping.

A couple times, they would sleep in those empty houses, but Yuri knew that neither of them liked that. It felt earie. Few places were burned completely. Black trees stuck up like nails, scabs across the land. The houses in these places were fragile, melted into the trees from years of rain.

More than often though, the land had grown in and around it. Fresh plants broke through the soot, bright and green. The landscape could have a do-over. It wasn’t the end if everything was burned away. Something would always wriggle up from underneath.

The town where he had grown in; he had little memory of the place. He couldn’t begin to think where it could be. Grandpa hadn’t known, and his mother hadn’t told him. It had gone down in flames. It could’ve been any town they had searched and passed.

He didn’t know if he wanted to go back. The cabin was his home, their home. It was where he had grown, where Grandpa was, where Otabek was supposed to be. With him, in their home, together. Able to breathe without suffocating. Able to kiss without suffering for it.

Carefully, he glided up the steps, wings vibrating.

“Oh,” he mumbled, tightening his jaw.

The window had been smashed in, glass shatter strewn across the floor. It smelled stiffly of mold. With disgust, he took in the bed and the bookshelf, clearly the victims here. Not touching the floor, he opened a book. Yes, mold had taken ahold here, eating away at the paper. The words had melted together, creating dark gray clouds across the paper.

He let out a dark laugh as he sunk his hand down on the bed. It squelched in reply, moist and cool against the tips of his fingers. The damage was similar, mold crawling across the covers. Even wiping his hands off afterwards, he still felt like the mold was there.

The bed was easy to replace. Even the wood he’d be able to repair, but the books? A hand tightened on the bridge on his nose, and he let out a hard, hefty sigh.

He had work to do.

 

*

 

It wasn’t enough work for three months. He threw himself into fixing the house, first fixing the protective charm around his cabin, then over the roof. Phichit had taught him a lot in the months that they had been together, and he put it to good use. He was able to keep warm with the incantations, and no longer had to burn up wood. Instead, he could begin repairing the soaked walls.

Downstairs was fine. The crack was relatively easy to fix. Sometime in winter, a large crow had flown into the glass. He found it close by, cold and hard against the grass, muscles stiff.

He found himself burying the thing in the woods, far enough from his house where he didn’t need to think about it.

Not knowing where to start, he tried to repair the upper floor. The wood needed to be replaced before he could begin to fix everything else. The bed and all that came with it were thrown out the house. Yuri was tempted to light it on fire, but left it there for now.

Once everything had been taken down from the room, he replaced the floorboards once by one, then the walls. He was thankful for the lack of rain, and was able to fix it up in a matter of days. In those first few days, he would sleep on an enlarged blanket. When he ran dry of magic, he would find something else to do.

The bath outside needed scrubbing. The traps he had set had captured animals months ago, and now were starting to rot as spring marched along. Dust and dirt, Grandpa’s tree had almost choked under the snow in the winter. Working until his muscles gave in, he made the cabin spotless.

And he tried not to think too much of Otabek. It was harder when he came down to rest, watching the sun sink through the circular window after a day of hard labor. He felt like crying, bawling like a baby into his hands.

He tried not to.

But sometimes, there was nothing else he could do.

The sense of hopelessness, not being able to do anything to fix what had happened. Fix the distance between them.

Perhaps if they hadn’t killed that man – maybe if Yuri had just stunned him, then they wouldn’t be here. Alone.

He could’ve done that. He could’ve avoided killing him. Everything had built up to a peak, rising in his stomach, curdling and frothing in a wave of blinding red hate. He had hated, from the very pit of his soul, and in that awful blinding second there was nothing he wanted more than to take hold of the emotion and force it down.

Take back a little control for once. After all, what is more controlling than being able to kill someone?

He hadn’t even tried to stop himself.

Was this remorse, or was he just angry at having been caught? Should he feel guilty? Yuri didn’t know if this is what guilt felt like. Guilt was from the gut. Guilt was getting Otabek caught in this mess. It was visceral in its intensity, unable to give a moments rest.

He didn’t feel guilty about killing him. He felt guilty about causing this rift, this separation. If it had been anyone else, he would’ve been disgusted by the apparent lack of empathy. The hypocrisy made his mouth taste weird, like it was someone else thinking these things, feeling these emotions.

Otabek had killed before. He could see it in his memories, as clear as if they were his own. The blood under the nails, and crunch of bone, the light dying in their eyes. It was all there, caused by his hand, but no emotion was attached to these memories over others. They were just there, floating around without constraint. He felt no desire to hide these memories from Yuri.

That didn’t bother him, did it?

Did it? He wondered as he lay across the blanket. Now the stars had come out, bright enough through the window to be accusing. The heady glare of the moon made metallic spots dance across is eyes. When he leaned back and closed his eyes, he could still see the stain.

He came to two conclusions. Either, this was being delayed. His guilt would come in time. Perhaps when Otabek was safe, back home. Another, that there was just something incredibly wrong with him. Wrong as in, able to murder a man and not feel much of anything about it.

Maybe this was because he was alone. He was thinking too much. It brought up too many memories. Once Otabek was here, the mental static would clear up his thoughta.

 

*

 

Spring came and went.

He replanted the garden, spent hours on his knees digging up at the soil. The dirt was probably permanently stained into his skin. Yuri wouldn’t have been surprised if it never washed off. Gardening was draining, but Yuri thought it was maybe the most rewarding of the tasks he had put himself to do. He was able to see the plants burst through the soil, pale green steadily blooming as summer approached.

The warmth pulled the plants upwards, higher and further as green leaves sprouted. They grew almost overnight, at least, that’s what it felt like.

The cabin had been restored, and it was better than it had ever been. With a new bedstock, Yuri made a thick mattress of straw, covering it with a heavy blanket. Unfortunately, the books were beyond repair. He had nearly held a wake for the small library he had owned.

Reluctantly, he found himself writing a letter to Phichit, asking for copies of his books. Their searching hadn’t been for naught. Phichit was probably still analyzing the artifacts, hunched over his books until late in the evenings. It would’ve have surprised Yuri if the man developed a crooked back.

As the summer began, his thoughts only strayed further into his memory. He knew it wasn’t possible to reach across all this distance. Otabek had still be developing his control. They were just too far apart.

It didn’t stop him from trying, stretching dangerously along the thin golden membrane. He heaved, reaching as far as he could before he was tugged back into his own head.

It was stupid to cross the distance. He just couldn’t reach that far.

 

*

 

It took time for him to go back to the village. There was something about walking into a town full of people that didn’t exactly appeal.

The winter months had left him skinnier than before. He had never had to exert that much energy before. With summer looming ahead, he was putting on weight, ribs disappearing as his hips filled out. The sun was usually enough for him, stretching out his wings on a patch of grass. Still, sometimes, he just wanted a full stomach.

Maybe that was one thing he had grown used to, living with Otabek.

With a lip between his teeth for concentration, he placed a glamour over his wings. It was something the other fairy had taught him, a way to hide his wings without painfully compressing them. It was odd, seeing himself without wings. Seemed off, slanted in the wrong way.

He approached the same store, gearing himself up for another battle with Yuuko. People around brushed uncomfortably against his hidden wings. Shivering, he shrugged it off, and moved forward.

“Oh!” Said Yuuri, adjusting his glasses. “I haven’t seen you in some time! Thought you might have moved! Along with everyone else.” He laughed nervously. “Same as always?”

“Yep,” he murmured, clearing his throat. When had he begun to sound this croaky? “Potatoes.”

“Sure, I’ll get them,”

“Okay.” He said, watching the man’s uneasy movements. Why was he always so on edge? Dropping the coins into his hands, he waited.

“So, we’re have you been?” Looking back up, he shrugged.

“Around.” The bag of potatoes dropped into his hands, and he wheezed. They were heavier than he remembered…

“-ah- okay!” he nodded, despite the vagueness. Suddenly, his head popped up, a _clatter_ and then a final _smack_ of something heavy. Yuuri gasped, then physically cringed.

“Victor!” The man scrambled, frantically towards the elf. “Ah- don’t carry that-“ He adjusted his glasses, unsure of how to help.

“Oh, it’s fine!” With a near blinding smile, he lifted the box up and down in the air, showing that – yes he could definitely lift those boxes. His lip quirked as he flexed. Yuri fought the urge to vomit.

One, because that was the elf who had cut him off from his magic. Two, because of his blinding, gut wrenching aura of arrogance. It wafted off the man like a stench.

Yuuri said something, quietly, and the elf laughed in reply. When his eyes opened, however, they had trained themselves on him. Yuri froze, arms tight around his potatoes.

“You-“

“You!” Exclaimed the elf, hands coming over to his hips. “Well, if this isn’t a surprise!”

“Surprise?” He spat. “You put that magic garbage on my wrists!”

Yuuri gapped, looking between them. “Is he the-“ Victor cut him off.

“And you nearly killed me-“

“You captured us-“

“And you killed someone!” Cried Victor, throwing his hands up dramatically. Yuri bit the inside of his cheek.

With calming motions, Yuuri said, “Look, maybe we shouldn’t have this conversation-“

“I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t captured him!”

Victor gave him a grim look. “I was thinking, maybe we don’t make a big deal out of it?” He placed a delicate finger on his lip. “You know. I captured you and your bondmate, you nearly killed me- fair’s fair right?”

“Fair’s fair?” He spat, seething. “ _Piece of shit- asshole motherfu-_ “

“I know it’s hard to understand, but I had no choice.” Victor’s lips thinned. “He was my friend. Sort of. We got along, and I liked him as a person – and I _never_ wished anything bad on him. But Yakov thought he had deserted.” He frowned. “I never thought he’d be able to do something like that, but it’s not unheard of…”

“If he was your friend, then why didn’t you let him go?” He hissed.

His eyes sank for a moment, frown deepening. “Look kid, it’s complex. We all believed he had done something wrong. And it’s not a good idea to annoy your commander. There are layers here that you’re missing, since you’ve only been able to see one side-“

 _Is this asshole trying to reason with me_? His stomach tightened.

“-And I’m totally willing to forgive you, but seriously-“

“ _Seriously?_ ” he choked. Yuri needed to leave. Leave before he ended up trying to kill this guy again. He spun around, quickly shoving through the morning crowd.

“Wait!” Cried the elf. “Wait, is- is he okay?”

“You want to know-“ he said, slowly, seething. “If he is okay?

“Yes, well- I have no idea what happened.” Victor admitted. “After I came here. I haven’t received any news. I-“ he paused, breathing. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I just want to know if he’s okay.”

Yuri dug his fingers into his arms. He took a deep breath, then nodded. Tension drained out of his shoulders, and he sighed.

“Thank the Gods for that,” he said, quietly.

Fuming, he made his way back into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next time, as we see what Otabek's been up to in the last year!


	31. The End

Summer broke over spring

Yuri stirred, pushing the blankets back with his feet. It was a hot morning, a thick damp heat that made the sweat drip from his forehead. The cool wet streaks along the windows were long gone, the hum of early morning activities thrumming through the air. Birds collected in groups on the long grass outside. He rubbed at his eyes, watching from the circle window at the scene below.

Sea lapping at the shore, there was a gentle wind now. The previous night’s rain had given the forest new life, dark green blades sticking up from the earth.

It felt undisturbed. Peaceful.

That didn’t explain, however, why today he felt so different.

His thoughts, the gentle pressure of his mind – it felt like thunder. It was deafening, pounding in his brain, wisps of emotion and feeling.

Yuri stood up, fast enough to make his head spin.

With new energy, the spot in his head had brightened, almost glowing. His heart began to hammer, and he grinned.

How close was he? The range, it was shorter than he had expected. There was no way he was this close already. It had been a year, perhaps a little more. It wouldn’t have deteriorated, not after a year of separation.

A year.

How quickly had it gone?

How slow?

There were moments that time trickled by at a snail’s pace. Days turned to weeks as he lay in bed, his arms ached for the presence of another. Sitting by the fire, he couldn’t help but think of the night where he had found this stranger in the woods. Haunted by the thought that if he hadn’t saved him, he wouldn’t have ever felt this way.

Other moments, like the months spend wondering through ruins were easier to bare.

Yuri glided down the stairs, pressing against the bond. It responded, the golden strands leaping to life. He let out an audible gasp, senses firing. The scent of salt and waves filled his nose, fresh pine needles beneath him. When he shut his eyes, he could feel the hard saddle against his legs, the sway of brush and fauna at the edges of his vision.

Yuri threw open the door and began to run.

His legs burned, but he knew where he was going. The bond would lead him, he had done it before. When Otabek had been taken, even with the faint bond between then he was able to find him. He flew forward, wings pushing against his limit.

There was a smaller clearing ahead, and he burst into the light, eyes searching. He ran forward, breath caught in his throat.

There he was, bright and gleaming. His hair was slick back with sweat. His armor rested along the horse’s side, helmet in hand as he came to a stop. He almost seemed to freeze for a moment, before a grin split across his face.

The man climbed down from the horse, and stepped forward.

Yuri crossed the space between them in a matter of seconds, finally touching him – finally wrapped in his embrace. He was laughing, tears choking his vision, trembling over his grin as the human gripped him like he was going to disappear. Beka was sobbing, clutching at his shoulders, pressing against his skin.

“Beka,” he had cried, more than once, and immediately a hand reached up, cupping his cheek. A thumb ran against the bone, and Otabek’s eyes were bright – almost light brown in the sunlight. Flecks of gold through the tears.

“You look amazing,” Otabek began to splutter. “Yura, you-you're-“ he grinned, from ear to ear. “Gods, Yura I missed you! So much, so fucking much,” and Yuri swore he could’ve seen stars in his eyes at that moment.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, brushing back streaks of black hair. His lip quirked in a way that was so familiar it made Yuri’s heart ache. “You have no idea how-“

“I do-“ Their thoughts were tangling, mixing, twisting together so tightly it was hard to tell the difference between them. Otabek’s want – to pull him closer – pressing against his skin to check whether he was real – the tug of his heart – it had him overwhelmed, their emotions running together in a loop.

Otabek’s eyes were wet,

He opened his eyes. Otabek was staring down at him, expression now intense and focused. He cupped Yuri’s cheek, thumb brushing over lips. He didn’t need to say another word.

He dragged his fingers over Yuri’s stomach, relearning the give of his skin, the heat, and curve of his hips. Notching the flesh, touching him. He shuddered, moaning before he could hold back the sound. “I want you,” he breathed. “I want-”

Otabek threw himself into a kiss, closing the space between them in an instant. Fingers tugging at his hair, arms parting, hot pants against his ear. His heart turned to liquid, pumping in his ears with each touch.

They had become desperate, the distance, the time apart had made them hungry for each other. Otabek brushed back his hair, soft and deep kisses that set his belly on fire. He couldn’t remember when they had fallen, but the grass was beneath his legs now, and he found he couldn’t care in the slightest.

“Come,” murmured Otabek, making to stand. “Let's go-“

Yuri dragged him back down, shaking his head. **_No, leave it_** _-_

Beka lifted an eyebrow, then nodded. **_Okay_** _._ His voice, right up close like that – it spiked his blood. He shivered, raining kisses across his body. Speaking without words, it allowed him to use his mouth in other ways.

He nosed at the hem of his shirt, lifting it, moving up around his wings. He pressed a kiss to the tip of his wing, chuckling at the frustrated groan in response.

“Beautiful,” he ran his fingers down his veins, driving out the loneliness with each touch. Yuri refused to let the moans spill from his lips, gripping at Beka’s shoulders. It was almost terrifying, the proximity, the closeness after so long apart – but Yuri just wanted _more_.

Before Beka could protest, Yuri had pulled off his shirt.

“Oh, Beka….” He murmured, heart squeezing.

His back had collected even more scars, bright lines carved into his sides. There was a slice across his chest.

Yuri traced the valleys and curves. Otabek could hardly remember which had come from where.

_It was just training._

Yuri glowered. “Just training?”

“Maybe I’m just not as good as I used to be. Things happen.” He let out a wince as Yuri’s heart began to hammer. There was a cut, a purple leap on his thigh from a direct stab. His chest clenched painfully. Otabek was shielding these memories from him. He didn’t want Yuri to see what might’ve happened.

“Did this hurt? Well, shit, of course, it did, but how didn’t I feel this…” Stupid question. They had been too far away for anything to come through.

“Yes. Of course it did, but it’s nothing that I’m not used to.”

“I’m not happy about this.”

“I know that.” Otabek watched him. He traced an amber streak on his collar, and kissed it gently.

“Nothing like this,” he said, forcefully, pointing at the scar on his thigh. “Is going to happen again. I swear…”

Otabek kissed the frown on his lips. His fingers interlocked between Yuri’s, and he squeezed gently. He pulled off Yuri’s shirt, then his pants, tossing them into the grass somewhere.

He held fast, and now he had become – _rough_ – cock hard against his thigh. Yuri buried a hand in his hair, pulling him forward into a fierce kiss. He moaned, halting for a moment, fingers dancing across his chest. Otabek rocked his hips, the friction of his hips slow, and infuriating. His cock thrust hard against his hipbone, the feel of him – solid and strong.

“Yes, Beka,” his mouth fell open. Otabek bit kisses against his throat. He held his shaking body tightly, flicking his thumbs over the peaks of his nipples. He arched into his hands, arms coming to his mouth to muffle his groans. The grass brushed against his wings, even the slight grinding barely tolerable.

Otabek pinched, hard – and pried away his hands.

“No,” he murmured, planting an eager kiss on his cheek. **_No one is here._**

He leaned up, pecking Otabek’s lips. The warm bubble in his chest, soft against his lungs, burst upwards – and he let out a snicker.

“What?” His eyes widened. “You want-“

“Please, I need it-“ he gasped, Beka stomach jumping. “I need you inside me – please – I’ve wanted you for so long,”

Otabek’s breath was hot over his ear. He _wanted_ to take him, right here and now. Yuri understood he felt it in the hands, fingers pressing up against his chest – grinding against him heavy and enraging. To wreck him, stretch him out on his fingers.

“Asshole, don’t make me beg-“ his voice choked, body jerking as a hand wrapped around his cock, fleeting kisses against his abdomen. Otabek’s hands roamed his body, leaving him twisting his fingers helplessly against the grass, gasping – strangled and broken off. His head began to swim, soft throaty moans he could barely hold back.

Otabek nipped at his thigh, gaze thick with warm desire. Yuri cursed, felt any last sense of protest crumble as he took Yuri into his mouth.

“Shit!” he gasped, raking his fingers down Otabek’s shoulders. It was almost like he was experimenting, seeing how much of Yuri’s cock he could take into his mouth at once – and Yuri barely avoided kicking him. His hips jerked, and Otabek shot him an annoyed glance.

“Hey – you can’t just-“

“I am.” He said, licking up the side of his cock. He rested his forearms over his hips, taking him down in notches. If anything, this made things worse. He could see the strain of his muscles, and his stomach tightened, tension filling him. He breathed, the scent of pollen and grass a poor distraction from the beautiful man between his legs.

**_Do you have anything- I mean we are kind of in the middle of the forest, but we can still go back to the cabin-_ **

Immediately, Yuri jerked up. Otabek looked up at him, confused. He had already cast a spell, oil spilling from his fingers. He poured the oil into Otabek’s cupped hands.

“Why are your fingers wet?”

“Magic-“ he gestured in the air, wiggling his fingers. **_Do you really want an explanation?_**

“Later,” Beka said, swallowing. He was wondering, thoughts barely at the edge – he was mostly consumed with the fairy splayed out before him – about doing this outside. In the bare, open sun. Naked in the open sky.

“Please,” Yuri begged him, even though he knew the other man wouldn’t leave him wanting. He moved, steadily, eyes flickering to catch his expression. He breathed at his touch, fingers just barely there, hand between his thighs. He squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a breath, until he felt Otabek slip one inside him.

_Oh, yes…_

He murmured, voice heavy and thick. “Tight.”

It had been long since he had done this himself. Perhaps a handful of times since they had separated – Otabek growled, thrusting a little harder than normal.

Yuri scrambled – it was intense, barely able to move as Beka pushed in his fingers in. He was practically pinned, grass rubbing against his neck and wings. He writhed, breathing his name – perfect, perfect – and when he shut his eyes he could see himself in Beka’s eyes. Cheeks flush, hair thrown back, wild and untamed. His lips were bitten red, fingers clenched in his side.

He craned his neck, watching the glow of his eyes as he thrust his fingers in, watching how his body took it in. The other hand was moving, and he released he was working his own cock. Yuri felt something in his body snap. He was enjoying this, excited to pleasure Yuri, and he knew he couldn’t possibly keep up at this pace.

“More-“

“Shhh, Yura-“

“You don’t have to be gentle,” he panted. “I know you want more than this,” Otabek tongue darted, kissing at his thigh. “I know what you’re thinking – remember?” He hissed, twitching, grin slowly curling up his face as his walls crumbled down. “Y-you want to wreck me.”

He tried moving, but Otabek wasn’t moving. It was impossible to get even an inch from him, and it was driving him to madness.

“Be rough! – Shit, just give me what I _need-_ “ His voice cracked, pleading, and he could hear him breathing – hard against his thigh. “I know you want more, so pleas –“

He cried out in relief, high and sharp.

“Of course,” murmured Otabek, thrusting almost viciously. “Of course, I know – I will – you want this, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” he babbled, as Beka relentlessly opened him up, scrambling his insides. Fingers hard and steady at his waist, tugging him further.

“You like this so much,” He rocked back on his hand, pulling in breathes like he was drowning.

“Beka- I,” he struggled now with the words – felt the grinding of his cock hard against Yuri. He was rubbing hard, heavy and tight. “I- I’ll come-“

“I’m not slowing down,” he said, damp breath huffing. Yuri’s skin tingled, unable to figure out where it was a blessing or a curse to have the man constantly reading his thoughts. He wanted to be under pressure – so Otabek was giving it to him.

“I need you – I can’t – not without you inside me-“

“Okay,” he growled. “Then you’re ready now.” He pulled his fingers out, and then moved back.

 _Of course_ he was ready. He had been ready for the last minute. The words still give him a whole body shiver, right to the tips of his fingers.

He planted a kiss on his knee, eyes soft but intensely hot. Beka drew a hand over his cock, covering it from base to tip. Yuri watched, waiting, shaking as his fingers caught on his shoulders.

He couldn’t have been prepared, as Otabek settled his hands on Yuri’s shoulders. His cock pressed against his rim, leaving a wet kiss as he pulled away for a moment. The pressure built, more, right until he slipped in. Yuri groaned at the stretch.

Otabek kissed him, trying to distract him from the pain. His heart twisted in guilt, but Yuri gave him a stern look.

“Don’t you _dare_ feel guilty for this.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. Stop.” He wiggled, causing him to slip further in. “Ah- shit, I want this, okay? I want you inside of me, I want to fuck me- so stop feeling like that because I can feel it too.”

Otabek frowned. “I’m worried about you.”

“And I’m telling you that you don’t need to be.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Yuri said, looking up at him. Otabek’s lip quirked. He pushed, and Yuri felt like the hair was being forced out of him. He remembered the last time they had done this, and he swore that he hadn’t felt this big.

“Halfway.”

“Halfway!” he choked. Otabek laughed, and brushed back his hair, planting kisses along his neck. “Fuck Beka, you’re going to kill me!”

“You can take me.” Yuri focused on relaxing his muscles. Otabek was thick, filling him where his fingers hadn’t been able to reach. A hand pressed low on his belly, heavy pressure pressing up against his insides, adjusting bit by bit around him.

“Okay?”

He let out the breath he had been holding, and nodded.

**_Gentle?_ **

_no._

He slid his hands down, gripping his hips. Tight. “Okay.”

He pulled himself out, slamming back in before Yuri could catch his breath. His eyes flew open, wide and pleading. Otabek was taking him – properly – right to that edge. The way he’d been wanting to, building the pleasure in him at an earth-shattering pace. Hard, and a little too much, he felt his thoughts slipping, drowning.

He was falling, already. Free falling, hands laced tightly together, and Otabek was looking down at him with such an expression that he couldn’t help but close his eyes. He rolled his hips, and Yuri wanted to break underneath him, shuddering.

Beka’s body had gone tight, head slumped over his shoulder. He gulped back air like he hadn’t breathed in his life, filling his lungs. Yuri squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand along the tense muscles along his back, digging his nails in.

The man above him inhaled, sharp and frantic, and Yuri’s eyes flew open, blinking sunlight from his eyes.

“B-Beka?” he brushed his fingers over his cheek. The tears dripped over him, trickling down his elbow. “Are you okay?”

He hadn’t slowed his movements for a moment, pace brutal as tears fell from his shut eyes. Beka’s chest was tight, heartbeat snapping against his lungs. His hips slammed down, hard, and a little too rough.

“I’m happy, Yuri,” he said, slowly opening his eyes. Yuri blinked, and felt like he had been struck by lightning. “I’m so, so happy.” His nose brushed against his cheek, skin tingling. “You make me feel – so much. When I look at you, I can barely breathe…”

Yuri snapped his hips up. The warmth in his chest, it had spread. It wasn’t him, it was both of them. Emotions filling his veins, draining into each other.

“I missed you too,” he murmured, shuddering as a hand came to grip him, lifting him, allowing for him to thrust deeper. His hand was solid, warm against his ass as he was spread further apart. Yuri wriggled, trying to meet him, sink deeper. Yuri ached, cock hard against his stomach, friction building up, infuriatingly unable to rut up against him.

Beka’s breath hitched, heat rising within him, stomach filling with warmth as his skin stung. **_Already?_** He dragged himself out, leaving him hollow – and in the next second he almost began to cry as his hips ripped forward, flesh against flesh – he would’ve slid if it wasn’t for the hands that held him down. He sobbed, clean into the open air above, body jolting. Otabek felt devastating good, fast enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

“Beautiful,” he growled, arms on either side. He was trapped, hot and sweaty underneath this man that looked like he wanted to swallow him. Yuri was burning, fingers scratching up against scars, stunning the breath from Beka. “Gods – I don’t deserve you-“

**_Please just- Beka-please-_ **

He grit his teeth, pressing him into the floor, grinding at a frustrating pace. Yuri couldn’t make a sound, helpless in his grasp, torn between staying still and taking it or moving further away from his unyielding movements.

 ** _Come on,_** he thrust a hand between them, frantically working the head with his palm. “I can’t hold myself up like-“

“Got it,” he nodded, lifting a hand, stroking himself without pause, praying under his breath. He gasped, like he couldn’t believe that he was finally able – like he couldn’t breathe without this, without this feeling.

**_Open your eyes, Yura._ **

He shivered with the voice, dark and deep. With the last ounce of effort he had left, he blinked open his eyes, and gazed into his dark eyes, the deep brown almost consumed by black.

With a soft cry, he was spilling over himself, bucking into Otabek’s chest. He shuddered, shaking as the pressure built, faded. Otabek didn’t slow for a moment, working him through it. His face pressed into Yuri’s next, breathing – **_Yura_** – as he came apart.

Yuri peered up at him, recoiling from the sensitivity. With an apologetic sigh, he pulled from him. For a moment, he stared, fascinated by the warmth trailing from him. Yuri’s cheeks went red, hot and embarrassed.

“Shhh,” Beka said, softly. “Gods, Yura…” He pulled him close, crawling into the space between them. Lips trailed up his back, satisfied as they lay out in the open sun.

“That was…”

“Too much?” Yuri said, letting out a half-laugh.

“Amazing…” he sighed, eyes warm. “You’re amazing. I have no idea why you decided... this. With me.”

Yuri thread his fingers through Otabek’s, a smaller smile crossing his lips. “I’m asking you the same thing.” He curled up in his chest, grass pressing against his sensitive skin. “I want to be here. Forever with you. I don’t want what happened to ever happen again.”

Otabek nodded. “Forever.” He said. “But we should probably go back to the house first. Clean up.” His heart burned, ached with the memories of this place. Yuri placed a hand across his chest, felt his heart beat.

“Ready to see it then? Forever?”

He smiled, and stood up. When he saw that Yuri was still on the ground, he held out a hand. Yuri lifted his arm, and saw that he was still shaking.

“I might not be able to stand after that!” Yuri said, brightly.

Otabek gave him a sympathetic look, gathering up all their clothes. He whistled, calling in his horse. It hadn’t wondered far, and he loaded the clothes onto his back. Then, he leaned down, lifting Yuri like he weighed as much as a loaf of bread, seating him sidesaddle. He climbed on as well, seated behind him.

They rode, and Yuri felt unmeasurably safe in his arms. He ran his fingers through his hair, detangling the knots, and he could lean back into his chest, held tight in his embrace. Otabek wrapped his arms around his stomach, gentle with his skin – although, most of Yuri’s sympathy went to Otabek’s chest, which he scratched near bloody with his nails. He hadn’t even noticed, but Otabek didn’t mind, even liking it a little bit.

He hugged him to his chest, and Yuri let his eyes drift away.

 

*

 

“Oh,” he muttered, opening his eyes.

“Hello, Yuri,” Otabek popped up from the stairs, two cups in his hands. “You fell asleep. I brought you up here.” He put the mugs on the short table, and kneeled down by his side. He had pulled on his clothes, and Yuri felt very naked as he lay on the fur.

“How long did I sleep?” Yuri peaked at the mugs. He had warmed milk on the fire, and it smelled like he had tossed a few spices in there. He inhaled, deeply, tasting it in the air.

“Only a few minutes. “ he said, brushing back his hair. Yuri groaned, rolling over onto his side.

“I think you might have been a little rough.” He said, laughing under his breath. His ass was already protesting.

“Are you okay? I was a little worried.” Oh. Beka could probably feel his pain…

Yuri looked up, green eyes softening. “I’m great, Beka, please.”

“I like what you did, while I was gone.” He gestured vaguely. “It looks nice. Where are the bookshelves?”

“Ah… they were damaged. By water.”

“Right.” Said Otabek. “And the other bed.”

“Yep.” He nodded. “There was a leak in the roof. The place was pretty bad by the time I got here, but I had all this time alone.”

“It must have been hard.” Otabek’s brow furrowed.

“Are you serious? You clearly had a shit time.”

“It wasn’t- the scars will heal.” He said. “I’ve had worse.”

Now, without the tears in his eyes, Yuri could see his back properly. The scars weren’t all the same. A large red slash across his back, faded pink marks. Some had been exposed to the sun, and had turned an almost amber color.

He traced the bumps, and tried not to let it show on his face. Maybe it was guilt, he couldn’t tell. His stomach twisted, and he couldn’t quite understand the emotion.

Otabek touched his cheek, and sighed.

“We’ve been through a lot.” He said. “You need to be easy on yourself. We both need to be.”

He nodded, even though he didn’t really know how he felt.

Was it right? To leave the memories behind? Forget about what they had done, about who they had become as a result?

Was it fair to be easy on himself?

Otabek pushed back his hair. He sad there, on the floor, waiting. When they had both finished their mugs, he picked them up, and gave him a loving smile.

“Let’s have a bath,” he said. “I think that might help.”

“Might.” He nodded, and stood, ignoring the twinge in his side.

 

*

 

He sank into the bath, allowing the burn to course up his legs. His wings jumped slightly at the heat, but relaxed at the water loosened his muscles. Otabek slipped in behind him, gasping at the heat.

“I haven’t had a warm bath for the last year,” he said, flushing at the heat.

They sat in the water. Yuri had left the door open. They could see the grass from here, and the sounds of the forest could come in, without being muffled.

They could hold each other, finally touching – skin to skin as they hadn’t for so long. Despite the distance, just the feel of his skin made his heart calm. He washed his hair, washing it out with water. Otabek closed his eyes, relaxing as the water ran over his skin.

He did the same for Yuri. “I was thinking of cutting my hair.” He said, Otabek’s fingers pausing as he ran them through the golden strands. “But I decided not to.”

“Why not?”

“I guess… it would feel too different.” He said. Otabek covered his eyes, pouring water down his scalp. After a moment, he pulled away, brushing the water from his eyes. He looked at Otabek, and felt his heart clench. “I just want everything to be the same.”

“It doesn’t have to change.” He murmured. “Not if you don’t want it to. I’m here, you’re here. We can live now.” Beka rubbed the soap into his shoulders, brushing gently past his wings. “No more worrying about being caught. No more being caught. We can do whatever we want to do now.” He cupped water, pouring it down his shoulders. “And I’m here.”

“Forever.”

“For as long as I live.” He said.

Yuri smiled.

“I like the sound of that.”

 

*

 

They sat, hands clasped as they watched the waves lap up at the shore.

Otabek watched the band, turning it. It was woven, a tight braid of vine around his finger. It was bright green, and if he squinted he could almost see the dim glow in the light. The ring of vine had been frozen in time, still the same dark green as the day Yura had made it.

“I think it’s time,” he said, holding the band out on his palm. “That I join in some human traditions too.”

They had already been married, but Yuri knew that to Otabek it would feel a little more official with the ring. It was a physical thing, something he could look at. When Yuri’s wings lit up, he could see it, the faint glow.

There was a part of him, as much as he would deny it, that wanted it to be more. The vine that had sat in his chest – it was a constant presence. Otabek understood that there wasn’t any point in missing those days – where Yuri felt like he needed the threat of poisoning to keep the human under control. But the vine had changed, with every mood. The bond made it unnecessary – unless Yuri had his walls up he felt everything. But the vine was a part of him. The ring around his finger, he could take it off whenever he wanted.

Yuri wanted something a little more human. Something to remind him of Otabek – maybe something a little more traditional. He had brought a piece of metal, having taken the measurements of his finger with a piece of string the night before, and asked the blacksmith to make it. It had cost him, but it was all worth it when he saw the look on Yuri’s face.

“I don’t want to question your… ritual?” He asked. “But aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee?”

“We’re already married.”

“Yeah, but…”

In the end, he had obliged, taking a knee and asking for his hand. Yuri was very pleased with this human custom.

“Grandpa would have loved you.” He said, winking. “Such a gentleman.”

As the seasons passed, the little cabin remained in the forest, unchanging. Flowers grew and died. Trees reached up at the sky, and they would live. This was their home, even if they were no longer the same when they had left.

Yuri’s band was made of metal. You could see the twists and turns of how the blacksmith had beat the metal into shape inside, streaks and undertones of gold light beneath the silver. It was warm, in constant contact with his skin.

He liked spinning it on his finger. There were teeth marks, where he bit nervously at the metal where he normally would’ve taken it out on his knuckles. He wouldn’t take it off for anything, as if the metal had just become another part of his body. When they were gardening, he had refused to take it off despite Otabek telling him it would make it dirty. Yuri even slept with the thing on for the first few months. He had considered it a permanent addition.

They were changed, toughened by their memories. They had learned, and despite their differences, they shared something with each other that was precious.

They were alive, breathing – human and fairy – and they didn’t need to run or fight anymore. As long as they wanted, they could live and breathe here. Year to year, Otabek believed that nothing would make him happier than to live and love this man.

Yuri smiled, wings fluttering at the thought.

The sun had started to sink, blue ocean turning to amber waves. They were almost silent, just barely the taste of salt in the air. Evening birds flocked ahead of them, settling down for the night. It was almost time for them to go inside, settle down in their bed. Yuri would bring a book, drink a cup of tea as he read. Sometimes, he would read to Otabek, until his eyes would shut.

“What do we do now?” Yuri’s eyes were far away, and it took a moment when he turned back to Beka. A bubble of contentment rose up in his chest, and he stared off into the deep green glow of his eyes.

“We live.” He said, nodding. They would, right here in the heart of the forest. Together, both able to breathe. Away from rules – wars – destruction. For the first time in his life, he could trust all that he knew to one person – knowing that Yuri could do the same.

Here, he realized, as he took in all before him, they were free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been an insane journey. When I started this at the start of the year, I had no idea it would take this long. I had no idea where the story would even take me, or if anyone would bother reading this.
> 
> There are still things I need to improve, writing technics I need to work on. When I look back at my writing at the start of the year, I feel like I've improved immensely.
> 
> Seriously, to all of you who have joined me on this adventure of fae and humans, thank you for putting up with all my bullshit! I love each and every one of the comments I receive, yall are the kindest people on the damn planet <3
> 
> This might not be the end of the journey. Who knows, I might write a short Viktuuri story, or something about milasara. I don't know where next year will take me. We'll just have to wait and see.
> 
> Have a blessed day, and I hope to see you all again soon! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment if you want me to write faster, believe me, it helps :D


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